


Love Actually

by SamanthaGlow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ass obsession, Boss Ben Solo, Boss/Employee Relationship, British Politics, Devoted Kylo Ren, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Intern Rey, Interns & Internships, M/M, POV Ben Solo, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pining, Politics, Possessive Ben Solo, Praise Kink, Prime Minister Ben Solo, Protective Ben Solo, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, famous ben solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaGlow/pseuds/SamanthaGlow
Summary: Despite the crowd in the Entrance Hall of the 10 Downing Street, Rey notices him straight away.As dashing as he was on telly during the General Election debate.As breathtaking as he was five years ago when he asked her if she was out of blueberry muffin.New chapter every Sunday.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 135
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

For as long as he could remember, Ben has always been a good guy. 

Valedictorian of his class, he was an active member of Save the Ocean, a model TA dedicated to help as many students as possible, and a pretty good son for his relentless mother. Most of his 25 years of life have been devoted to meet everybody’s expectations. 

Ben sometimes forgot his own desires.

But right here, right now, the object of his desire was pretty damn clear. 

Crystal clear, you could say: nothing could have made him budge from his spot, a small uncomfortable plastic chair jammed into the corner of the Starbucks on Cornmarket Street.   
His Rey. So close but yet so far. 

So close since she was in the same room, behind the counter of the same busy coffee shop, listening to the same Jazz Lofi while gracefully serving customer after customer. 

So close since he could stand up, walk a few steps and swiftly position himself into her visual field. Once he would have caught her attention, he could try to open his mouth and exchange words with her. Hell, he could even try to make her laugh.

But he had yet to talk to her, except to stutter his name during his orders. 

A galaxy length separated him from her: him, mere mortal from Earth and her, the sun.   
Ben vividly remembered the first time he saw her in the coffee shop: she was swarmed by customers, visibly exhausted from a long shift, her apron covered in coffee and cream stains, and even then she shined. 

His Rey (Rey with an “E” as written on her apron label) was petite compared to him, 5 ft 2 of pure, unabashed cuteness. 

She had long, wavy chestnut hair, bright hazel eyes, and soft skin with light freckles. With these features, Ben could have managed to keep his attraction in check. But she also had that smile. That sweet and sad little smile, carrying more feelings than words can say. 

A tangerine eaten alone by the fire on a cold Sunday morning - smile. 

An afternoon waiting for somebody to come and play in the big empty flat - smile. 

Yes, her smile was one of the first things that pushed Ben over the edge during their first meeting. 

The second was her body. The regulatory green apron did nothing to hide her delicate curves, from her small and round breast to her perky bum. Rey’s ass was almost too big, oversized for a woman her height: during Ben’s first order, she had bent over to pick up oat milk. He had thus been able to discover her buttocks, two ripe cantaloupes. 

Ben had never been so hard in this life that time: almost with an out-of-body experience, he had imagined himself joining her behind the counter, placing himself against her butt. Then with his massive but oh so tender hands, he would have patted her large bottom while whispering filthy words (oh my sweet girl, what a lovely butt, you wanted me to notice it? I’ll give it all the attention it deserves, I’ll fucking worship it, I’ll eat your ass from Monday to Sunday).

It didn’t matter if it was his first or his twentieth times seeing Rey: with a smile from her or a glimpse of her bottom made Ben instantly and painfully hard. As soon as her pearly white teeth were showing or her round butt was wiggling, his cock twitched. Ben’s dick was listening to her voice, was reacting to her breaths. 

Once, Ben had sat on one of the couch for 3 hours for science purposes and had discreetly watched her. Unsurprisingly his dick had been stiff the whole time. That evening was the first time he used Rey as wanking material. He had resisted until then because, well, she seemed young. Awfully young. 

She must be at least 16 years old since she had a job, but her doe eyes didn’t lie: she was definitively younger than 20, definitively – irrevocably - irritably - younger than Ben.  
And it was not just the age-gap: Ben was already an adult in every way. Since the beginning of June, he was finishing the last month of his final year as a graduate. Simultaneously with his studies, he had already been working for a few years as a political consultant when he had been elected Member of the Parliament last September. 

Ben was now splitting his time between working in the Parliament itself, doing his duties within his political party, the Conservative Party, and preparing Snoke’s speeches when needed. 

He barely has time to come back to Oxford to complete his final tasks as a graduate and TA, let alone time to sit in Starbucks to stalk a teenager. But here he was, silently watching her putting back a rebel strand of hair behind her ear with slender fingers. Smiling to rude customers. Talking to her colleague.

“Finn, it’s the third time you ask me to cover for you this month…” Rey grumbles.

“I know Peanut, but it’s Poe, he’ll be leaving for London soon, and I just want to spend as much time as possible with him, you know?”

Her colleague, Finn, seems to be convincing enough since she responds with a nod.   
The discussion makes Ben frown: Peanut, such a stupid nickname. Okay, she is a damn snack, but the only nickname good enough for her would be “love”. Or “kitten”. Absolutely not “Peanut”. 

Ben takes another look at Rey, and his frown deepened: is he the only one noticing how tired she looks? Her colleague clearly doesn’t give a damn about her, her face is pale, and there’s a dark shade under her eyes.

True enough, just before turning again to welcome her next customer, she closes her eyes for a few seconds. She seems exhausted. Ben can’t help but growl at the sight, causing several clients to turn their heads. 

Rey also seems to hear: she is now checking the lobby to understand the origin of the noise. Just before their eyes meet, Ben shifts away and stares at his mug. The last thing he wants is for her to be afraid of him. 

And God knows she would be if she could see inside his head. 

Since his first visit, a month ago, there isn’t a day when he doesn’t think about her. Whether he is in London in his office, in a cab going to work, in the Library grading some papers, she’s there, with him. 

He imagined her scrunching her nose when he writes down some crap about integrity in Snoke’s speech.   
Laughing playfully when a student lies yet again about his missing homework.   
Humming a song with him when he’s preparing dinner. 

He’s haunted. He’s furious. He wants to talk to her.

Ben gets up and grabbing his laptop and his bag then walks purposefully towards the counter. 

Okay. Now’s the time. Talk to her. Make her laugh. Then marry her.

Simple enough.

But Rey’s not behind the counter anymore. Ben checks the vending station then the lobby, then the counter again. 

“Can I help you?”

It’s him, her colleague, who must have noticed his frustrated state. 

“Yes, I’m looking for Rey” Shit. He’s not supposed to know her name; they never even talked together. Ben inwardly curses himself.

“Oh, that’s a shame, she just left a few minutes ago. Do you want me to call her?” And no, Ben is definitively not jealous to hear that Finn has her number. Why would he be jealous of such a trivial fact?

“No, that’s fine, thank you.”

“Okay, have a nice day” finish Finn before going to the lobby to do God knows what coffee-shop related tasks.

Yes, that’s fine. Ben is still in Oxford for a few days; he can always come back tomorrow. To observe her, check if she’s okay, to make sure she had a good night sleep. 

Or to try to talk to her maybe. 

But he doesn’t get to choose between these options. The following morning, she’s not there.  
  
She’s not there the following week either.

And the following month. 

And the following year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you will like this story. The idea came from the Prime Minister mini-story from Love Actually !


	2. Chapter 2

« Yes, thank you very much. I am looking forward to starting next Monday. Have a nice day!"

Rey hung up the phone, feeling dizzy.

She just had the most important phone call of her life on a Sunday at 8:00 AM.

More precisely, she received an internship offer while coming home from McDonald’s with her joggings full of warm and greasy apple pies on a Sunday at 08:00 AM.

What. The. Actual. Frick?

The sheer size of the new was difficult to comprehend, and as she always did during those times, Rey chose the “Phone-a-friend” option. She took a deep breath, inhaled one apple pie, and pressed call under Finn’s contact with her oily fingers.

“Whaddup Peanut?”

“Finnyouwontbelievewhathappened” she gasped.

“What? WHAT? Something happened between the time you left 15 min ago to get your fix of sugar and now?”

Rey almost had to _think_ about how to verbalize the event to make it believable. After all, she had trouble believing it to be true, and she was _there_.

“I just got a call from Helen Slack, the wife and assistant of James Slack.”

“Okay… And I’m supposed to know who is James Slack?”

“James Slack is the Home Secretary of the Prime Minister’s Cabinet.”

With this last piece of information, Finn became silent on the other side of the line. Rey was pretty sure she had the same reaction when Helen shared her name during the phone call. The main difference being that Rey knew who Helen was: she was working as a political assistant in London, since three years now, _of course,_ she knew about the power couple James and Helen Slack.

“Why would a member of the Prime Minister’s Cabinet call you on a Sunday morning?”

“So you remember Leia Organa, right? I worked for her during the last Green Party seminar. I was in charge of the organization and whatnot. Well, it seems that I made a positive impression since she referred me to Helen Slack. An intern from the Cabinet's team just resigned at the last minute, and they need someone to fill in."

“That’s brilliant!” shouts Finn. “You deserves it so much! Congrats babe!”

Rey could almost _see_ Finn, screaming into the phone, standing in the middle of their kitchen with a fist into the air.

“Yessss!” she beamed. “But there’s a small catch. I’ll start next Monday. So… tomorrow.”

“Well, I mean… You don’t have any other professional commitment right? With this situation, you won’t have time to overthink everything like the lil Peanut you are”.

“You’re kidding, right?" Even if she loved him, Finn could sometimes be as thick as a dishwasher. “It means that I have 24 hours to learn everything that I can about the Prime Minister’s Cabinet organization, hierarchy, history and activities. I was planning to stay on the couch all day while stuffing my face with apple pies.”

“Listen, stop whining, just come home, and Poe and I will help you cram for tomorrow.”

Rey hated when Finn was right.

Absentmindedly, she hung up and ran to cross Kensington High Street. She had absolutely no idea on what to wear tomorrow. Her only trouser suit was definitively too tight for her hips. Rey had bought it when she had just finished high school.

Her butt had not get the memo that her growth was over.

She was well aware that her overall appearance could be unsettling. While her face looked seventeen-ish, her body was definitively curvaceous. Now a twenty-two years old woman, she still had to show her ID to buy alcohol, which was humiliating.

The freckles didn’t help as well, but she would be damned if it meant she had to change. In fact, her favourite hairstyle was a side-braid; it kept the curliness under control.

It didn’t matter if most of the guys she met were not interested in her make-up free, babyface: her features were the only thing that she had from her parents. No last name, no family, no money.

Rey did remember a few scarce early memories, with a gorgeous lady bent over her. The lady had freckles too and was singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” while caressing Rey’s freckles. “My little star had tiny stars on her face” she remembered hearing.

She had been, at least once in her life, someone’s little star. That fact was enough to endure the jokes about her freckles.

It would be an understatement to say that Rey’s childhood had been difficult. She remembered certain foster homes where one parent or the other - sometimes both – didn’t even know her name. Always having to fight with other kids to get scraps, being made fun of at school for wearing worn-out clothes.

But even then, she considered herself _lucky_ in comparison to her last two homes.

Finn and Poe themselves didn’t know the extent of what happened in the Hux and Plutt households: they did know that even years later, they had to avoid screaming or doing sudden movements with Rey near.

But her past would not stop Rey from doing great things. In fact, she thought while approaching her flat, _it’s because of my history that I want to do politic_. To change the Education system, to prevent orphan children from ending up in places like Plutt’s.

Rey climbed up the stairs, drew her keys and went into her apartment. Right away, she saw Finn and Poe on the couch, with the famous five-years Cremant waiting on the coffee table.

“Peanut, you’re here! Took you long enough!” grinned Finn. “I asked Poe to go looking for your precious.”

“Rey, I’m so happy for you, congrats! The bottle was dusty as hell, but it was still there, waiting for you in the attic.” Poe was also visibly thrilled: Rey’s bottle was the last remnant of their arrival in London five years ago.

The rules had been simple: one bottle of Cremant for each of them. The bottle would be granted when a personal accomplishment was achieved, and the recipient had the obligation to share it with the other members of the FPP Council. The Finn-Poe-Peanut Council.

"You do know that Cremant is the cheapest alternative to Champaign, right?" Rey asked Poe. "With your earnings, you could drink a bottle of Dom Perignon every evening”.

“It’s not about the drink, it’s about the symbol, and you.know.it. Stop playing coy, lil’ Prime Minister!”

“Oy, oy Poe, calm your tits, I’ll just be the intern of the 2nd Assistant of the Prime Minister. Far cry for the Prime Minister position.”

Finn, not listening, stood and with a swift move, _herded_ Rey in the living room. The lack of respect from her two best friends was becoming problematic, Rey thought. She could not wait to be Prime Minister to kick their asses.

The love she had for both of them was infinite: Finn and Poe were her only family.

She had met Finn at fourteen when she had been yet again moved to a new foster home.

Finn had been one of her foster brothers, and they had become joined at the hip in one week. He was three years older and had started to learn boxing at a very young age. Survival instinct, he often said jokingly.

However, Rey knew it was far from a joke: he had been able to protect Rey on numerous occasions, the last one being during her last night at Plutt’s. Their last night in Cambridge.

At that time, Finn and Poe were already together for two years, and thank god Poe had offered to welcome them in his parent’s flat in London. With nowhere to go, and Rey still being underage, the options for Finn and her were extremely limited.

Poe's family was wealthy, not only by Rey's standard but by everyone’s standard: he owned PureGym, one of the UK's largest fitness companies. Finn and Poe had met during a boxing training, and a few weeks later, Rey had met her brother lover.

She loved the balance that Poe brought to their life: Finn was outgoing and full of life, whereas she was introverted. Poe often played the referee in their fraternal heated discussions and overall was making Finn happy. And happy Finn meant happy Rey.

The trio began to drink, and Rey dramatically reenacted the phone call with Helen Slack for her audience. The internship was anything but profitable: six months long, 2.500 £/ month, with transportation reimbursement. It was also perfect since Rey was looking for an internship to complete her Bachelor in Politics.

She had been lucky enough to be granted a scholarship to King’s College, and an experience within the Prime Minister’s Cabinet would be perfect to finish her curriculum with a flourish.

Between two sips of bubbly, Rey noticed that Finn had become distracted.

“A penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

“I was wondering… Do you remember what tomorrow is?”

“Besides my first day as Prime Minister?" she chirped.

“Damnit woman, please use your head. No, tomorrow is July 24. It will be the first day of the new UK's prime minister. Unless you forgot the election one month ago?”

Rey dropped a little bit of Cremant. She had, indeed forgotten.

How could she have forgotten? It had been all the over the media during months. She had read all the papers, watched all the debates, and joined so many meetings. She had even distributed election flyers and leaflets during her free time. The last four months of her life had been a constant repetition of the same routine: get up, go to school, connect with her friends from the Young Conservatives and participate to activities after school, go home, do her homework, go to sleep and repeat.

There were an official and an unofficial motive for Rey’s enthusiasm.

The official one was her interest for the Conservative Party.

After working with Leia Organa, and work together with members of the Green Party, she knew that the Ecology Party was not meant for her. The long-lasting cliché of pot smoker was not devoid of truth, and the lack of economic foresight had been the final nail in the coffin.

On the opposite side of the political spectrum, Snoke and his far-right political decisions were creeping Rey out. The 65 years old Member of the Parliament had been the leader of the Conservative Party until recently. His decisions regarding the immigration as well as the Brexit had been disputed within his political party.

Ultimately, the tempestuous arguments had led to Snoke to being overthrow by the youngest Member of the Conservative Party: Ben Solo.

Rey’s unofficial motivation to join the Young Conservatives.

The new Prime Minister already had a lot of nickname in the media: “The Prodigal Son” because he was the youngest Prime Minister since a century, “Judas” since he had openly betrayed his mentor Snoke to reach the top, and lastly “The Fridge”.

This last one was unmistakably due to his looks and demeanour: Ben Solo was 6 foot 4 inches, with broad shoulders and constant sour facial expressions.

Every time Rey saw him on the telly, he always seemed almost too big for the screen, having to lean – and lean some more - to reach the mike.

She often wondered if the main reason behind his success was that he dwarfed all his political opponents.

It must be hard, Rey often thought, to inspire respect when you rival is looking down on you - in every way.

Ben Solo was not only big, but he was also refined, like a very classy, very expensive fridge. Always wearing black suits, with his dark hair and pale skin, he looked otherworldly in all of his public appearances. Looking way too good to be a politician.

The other reason behind “The Fridge” was Ben Solo’s famous scowl: with his dark eyes, his eyebrows brought together and his tight jaw, nobody wanted to be the recipient of that icy expression. Nobody except Rey.

She once had been the person this scowl was directed to.

In Cambridge, in her other life, she had met Ben Solo. Well, “met” was maybe not the right word: she had prepared Ben Solo’s coffee at Starbucks.

At that time, the man who would later become the Prime Minister was already dressed in black from head to foot. Rey remembered vividly the first time she saw him.

She had just started as a barista, and her first day had been exhausting.

Few minutes before the end of her shift, she was filling up the milk container when she heard “Hello” from a deep and rumbling voice.

Looking behind the machine, she only saw an enormous chest, with pectorals straining against the fabric of a black t-shirt. Eyes wide, she looked up – and up – before meeting a dark gaze.

To this day, she still doesn't know if it was his intense stare or his dark voice, but her knees gave out, and she had to reach for the countertop. With a shaking breath, Rey went to the cash register and tried her best to act like a normal human being.

He was massive, and his eyes watched her every move.

“G-good morning. What can I get?” Re asked. Then quickly added (because she was a moron) “For you today?”

She then saw him take one of the plastic menus as if he wanted to look into the drinks option. Almost immediately, his gaze went back to Rey. He had eyes as dark as night.

Scared to have upset him in some way, Rey chewed her lower lips, at loss with what to do.

It was her first day, and she had already angered a customer. And a massive one on top of that.

She didn’t feel comfortable with domineering men. She had her fair share of feeling threatened and did not want to be put into those situations again.

Rey began to shiver, and the customer _finally_ decided to break his stare.

“I’ll take a Cold Brew in Venti with no cream, please.” His voice seemed to have dropped an octave – yet again.

“O-okay. Coming right up. A-anything else with that?”

“No, thank you. My name is Ben.”

Grateful that he had provided her with his name to write down on his drink, Rey looked up and saw him intently watching the menu in his gigantic hands.

“Thank you, your total is 6.5£. H-how would you like to pay for it?”

Without replying, he retrieved a card from his pocket and swiped it through the register. He then put back the plastic menu, thanked Rey and move to the corner of the counter.

Throughout preparing his beverage, Rey felt his scorching hot gaze on her. She knew he was watching, and she tried to be as quick as possible. The guy was already pissed by god’s sake, she didn’t want to give him additional reasons to be mad.

Once his Cold Brew was done, she didn’t even have to call him, as he was already there, staring. He took the drink without a word and sat down to one of the couches in the back of the shop. There was so much of him that needed to bend down, and once he sat, the sofa looked like a damn chair.

Finally breathing again, Rey went back to her milk pouring.

Before realizing five minutes later that she had mechanically added cream to the giant man’s coffee.

A cold sweat began to slide down her spine, and she knew she had to go and offer to remake his drink. She just didn’t want to.

Rey furtively looked and saw he was sipping his drink. Sipping his drink and watching attentively the cash register.

After a quick mental meltdown, she ultimately decided to go and talk to him: she crossed the counter door and took a few steps in his direction when a boiling hot liquid came into contact with her right arm. Instantaneously Rey whimpered.

What the frick?

"Oy! Can you watch where you walk?" asked an angry-looking mom, with a small child by her side. "You made me spill my drink".

Rey's eyes were watering, but she did her best to smile nevertheless. The pain coming from her arm and the humiliation combined was pushing her over the edge.

"Y-yes, I'm very sorry, Madam. I'll prepare you another one right away."

“It’s not enough; I think you should make a commercial gesture for the inconvenience."

The inconvenience? And the fact that she could feel her heartbeat in her arm was not an inconvenience?

Rey nodded quietly and moved back to the counter to comply. Before turning around, she glanced back into the lobby, her hand on her arm, trying to relieve some of the burns. That’s when she saw it. Ben Solo famous scowl. The stare that could make the senior members of the parliament tremble.

It was directly stuck on Rey.

Even five years later, she remembered it perfectly.

No wonder he had reach the top of the political food chain: his scowl could freeze anybody.

And tomorrow, she was going to start working on his team.

Everyday.

During six months.


	3. Chapter 3

When Monday came, Rey was ready.

She had learned all the names of the members of the Cabinet, plucked her eyebrows, prepared a bag full of notebooks and pens, ironed her grey pencil skirt, studied the names of all the previous Prime Ministers since Ramsay MacDonald.

Since she was not the most confident person, the preparation part was crucial for her.

Helen Slack had told Rey to come and wait by the Staff Entrance of the Cabinet Office at 9:00 AM. The building was located very close to 10 Downing Street. The separation between the two buildings allowed the Prime Minister some privacy, the Prime Minister living in 10 Downing Street.

She did not know why, but this information rattled her—especially the idea of stumbling into a half-naked Ben Solo in underpants.

The man was scary (especially when angry), but he was also sexy as hell. She remembered his large hand perfectly when he had swiped his card: it was the size of _her arm_. Despite her lack of experience, she knew that he was a very attractive man.

After a 20min metro commute, Rey reached the Office’s staff entrance. It was 8:50 AM, she was perfectly on time.

An excellent start of the day.

A few minutes later, an elegant woman opened the door and checked her surroundings. Spotting Rey, she smiled and in a few steps, reached her.

"You must be Rey, I presume? I'm Helen; it is so nice to meet you finally."

“Good morning Helen, the pleasure is all mine” said Rey with a genuine smile. “I am so excited to work here.”

“Well, you are saving my ass, so I can say without a doubt that I am excited to have you here as well.” Helen said, returning Rey’s smile.

Rey nodded and followed Helen inside the building. What did she mean by “saving her ass”? Surely an intern was not important enough to have any impact of the organization of the Cabinet. Right?

She realized ten minutes later how wrong she had been.

It turned out that the second assistant that she was supporting was anything but competent. Through Helen’s hints, Rey quickly realized that she would be swamped. During the tour of the Cabinet, Helen led her across the Office, pointing out important rooms.

The older woman was moving graciously, and Rey was drinking her every word. Helen was the personification of Rey’s professional goal, a perfect blend of poise and wit. Too bad she was not Rey’s direct supervisor.

Through Helen’s words, Rey understood that Armitage Hux, her supervisor, would be challenging to work with. Best scenario, he was going to let Rey alone, and she would be completely autonomous. Worst scenario, he would be behind Rey's back, always criticizing but never doing anything to help her.

“You will be in charge of organizing the Halloween Charity Ball, as well as all the other events throughout the year. You will need to build a team of reliable Cabinet members who will help you preparing these events. Your role is to manage the whole process from the planning stage, right through to running the event and carrying out the post-event evaluation. I know it is unusual but you will also have other interns working for you.”

Helen was now guiding Rey through the magnificent ground floor, where many people were gathered.

“I know that it can be a lot of pressure, but Leia think you are perfect for this position and I completely trust her judgement”.

Rey, who had been furiously scribbling all the information while walking, raised her head and tried to cover her blush with a smile. It was always so difficult to deal with compliments. She knew she was secretly craving them, but never knew how to react when she received them.

She went for a professional reply.

“I will do my best to meet your expectations and not let Leia’s kind words go to waste.”

“I am sure you will do wonders.” Helen smile. Then, lowering her voice "Just a word of advice. Once your working day is over, do not linger in your Office. We don’t want to overwork you. Please let me know in case you need help with anything."

Again another double entendre. What did she mean by “do not linger in your office”?

After a few seconds, it hit her. She was going to share her Office with Hux, and Helen subtlety warned her about him.

Rey began to feel the telltale signs of panic: if her understanding was correct, she was in trouble. She already had her fair share of violent men and was not willing to be threatened again.

Just before she was able to turn to Helen and voice her worry, a noise came from the entrance of the building.

“Quick, Rey, we have to join the other, it’s the official introduction of the staff” said Helen while walking hastily into the Lobby. “You have to stand in the third row, and I’ll be in the first one. The new Prime Minister is coming to greet us.”

The Lobby was full; hundreds of people were waiting. Rey recognized several famous figures in the first row and presumed that the Prime Minister would greet essential staff members.

Once she found a spot, she squeezed herself between two beautiful girls. After a quick chat (initiated by the girl on her left), Rey learnt that they were twin sisters working as apprentices in the Cabinet's kitchen. Rose and Paige Tico seemed very friendly.

Being able to befriend other people was not something that Rey’s was accustomed to. It made her forget about the Hux’s issue for a little while, and when the main door opened, she was smiling to one of Paige's joke.

As soon as the Prime Minister entered, all the voices died out abruptly.

Rey, too short to see clearly, stood on her tiptoes to see her new boss. She didn’t know if it was her new-found height or something else entirely, but she felt her knees go weak.

For here he was.

Despite the crowd in the Entrance Hall of 10 Downing Street, Rey noticed him straight away.

As dashing as he was on telly during the General Election debate.

As breathtaking as he was five years ago when he asked her if she was out of blueberry muffin.

It should have been impossible, but he seemed to have become even larger, his shoulders under his grey waistcoat impossibly wide. He was wearing a matching grey suit jacket and trousers, and a crisp white button-up shirt. His clothes gave an overall impression of sophistication while the man himself looked anything but.

With his bulky frame and dark eyes, Ben Solo was designed to fight, steal, and kill, as the dark Viking that he was.

His dark hairs were slightly shorter, and small wrinkles had appeared on the outside of his eyelids. Ben Solo with a few more years was a sight to behold.

The Prime Minister moved forward in the Lobby and began to greet members of his Cabinet. Without much surprise, he was only speaking with the first row.

In the utter silence, Rey could hear him thanking the members who congratulated him on his victory: his voice was deep, with smoked undertones.

And Rey was done. She was so done.

“Daddy’s home” she thought to herself.

She could not unsee it: Ben Solo, all dressed up and sat down in a chair, with Rey bent over his knees. Bared ass. Squeaking while receiving the spanking of her life.

In her fantasy, the Prime Minister had a filthy mouth and knew how to praise Rey just enough to drive her crazy.

Was it just Rey or the Lobby was getting hotter?

The Prime Minister was getting close to Rey’s side of the room. Her imagination ran at full speed: dirty thoughts were invading Rey's mind, and her cheeks were becoming redder by the seconds.

How could she have forgotten the true sensations that this man triggered? She remembered that he was frightening but had conveniently forgotten that he was hot as hell. Rey’s gaze was trying to focus on anything but him.

He should be facing the rows in front of me by now, Rey thought.

Grateful to be in the back, she compelled herself to listen to greeting sounds.

But there were none.

In fact, no one was talking anymore.

It was a good thing, Rey thought while staring at the stone pillar on her left. His voice brought up a shitload of feelings that she was not ready to analyze.

She waited, but still the Lobby was utterly silent. How odd.

Giving in to curiosity, she finally turned her head and looked to the front row.

And froze.

He was staring directly at her.

Rey couldn’t see the rest of his body, but she was under the impression that he was motionless as if he had been brutally interrupted in his route.

Just standing there. His dark eyes fixed on her face, drinking her up.

Feeling increasingly hotter by the seconds, she could see from the corner of her eyes that the other staff members were starting to scan around to see what had caused their boss to lose his train of thought.

And he was intently watching her.

Rey was at lost with what to do. The new Prime Minister was still looking at her, and in a nervous gesture, she chewed on her lower lip. The movement – _finally_ – seemed to provoke a reaction as the man quickly adverted his eyes.

With a relieved sigh, she heard him resume his greetings, the voice deeper than ever.

Gradually regaining awareness of her surrounding, Rey soon realized that her knickers were drenched. She remembered feeling _hot_ , and it appeared that the heat had spread in the most intimate part of her body. Closing her eyes briefly, she pictured his dark eyes, and she shivered. Yes, he turned her on without a doubt.

Did he recognize her? It was not possible; they had barely exchanged a few words _five years ago_. Besides, he had met hundreds of people through his work, and Rey was not _that_ outstanding.

Then why had he stared at her?

He might have remembered, Rey thought, and he was utterly disgusted to see that a Starbucks barista had found a job in his Cabinet. She already felt like an impostor, and now the Prime Minister himself knew her modest background.

He was probably going to ask his first assistant to fire her.

It would be a shame to be fired, Rey had done her best to look neat and professional for her first day. She thought she had done a great job: a white button-down shirt, a grey pencil shirt displaying her curves without being vulgar and nude heels. She even had put a little bit of make-up on and golden hoops earrings. Apparently, it was still not good enough for the Cabinet’s Office.

Rey’s mind was going a mile a minute: she saw that the Prime Minister had finished his greeting and was now chatting more informally with some staff members. The crowd was scattered, and Rey saw Helen approaching again with a redhead by her side.

Based on Helen’s grimace, Rey just knew that the meeting was going to be unpleasant.

“Rey, I would like to introduce you to your supervisor, Armitage Hux”.

The man was slightly taller than Rey and was in his thirties. He had red hair, green eyes and pale skin. Trying to get off on the right foot, Rey reached out to shake hands with Hux.

Instead of a handshake, she got a sly smirk and a thorough examination of her body from head to foot. The guy was not even trying to be discreet for god’s sake.

"Hello Rey, it is very nice… to meet you." His voice was candy-coated, and Rey wondered if it was supposed to be seductive. "I am sure we will be able to work very well together."

Rey did her best to remain professional mainly because she knew Helen was watching. “Nice to meet you, Mister Hux. I am looking forward to working with you”.

“Tss, tss no need to be so formal. You can call me Armie.”

Rey would rather cut her little toe with a butter knife.

 _If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything_ , Finn once told her. She did just that and didn’t reply to Hux.

It didn’t seem to bother him as he kept on talking while eyeing Rey suggestively.

"It seems that Helen has already shown you around. Too bad, I've been told I'm a fantastic teacher… of the Office’s architecture.” cooed Hux. “Did you know that this specific pillar is made from Italian marble imported in 1919?”

He was pointing to a spot behind Rey, and she turned around to check. While doing so, her gaze met another pair of eyes. Ben Solo was watching her – _again_ – but this time his eyes were narrowed. He looked positively furious and Rey hurried to break off the connection.

Shivering from the shock of the contact, she felt cold to the core. On top of that, the pillar she was now looking at _was definitively not in marble_. Wondering what Hux was playing at, she quickly turned back and saw that the redhead stare was staring at her skirt.

Oh, the little rat. His fucking pillar had been an excuse to check her ass.

“Hux, I’m sure that Rey is not here to learn about the architecture.” Helen’s voice was cold as ice. “Don’t you have meetings to attend this morning?”

Hux finally stopped staring and winced. “Indeed Helen, I need to run. Rey, let's catch up soon m'kay?" With a wink, Hux was gone, and Rey's shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Well, that was… something” said Helen, a look of displeasure on her face. “I think I will take you to Mitaka’s Office for today. He was the previous intern in your position and was recently promoted as Marketing Manager. Mitaka will teach you the ropes of your job.”

Rey nodded and followed Helen outside of the Lobby. Just before leaving the room, she checked in the direction of the Prime Minister. He was no longer there.

The rest of the day went seamlessly. Mitaka was two years older than Rey and was very helpful. He patiently described the yearly agenda and the events, as well as the past organization. He even explained his past mistakes to make sure that Rey could learn from them.

Rey was exhausted but thrilled. She even had shared her lunch with Rose and Paige and felt pretty confident about this internship.

The only cloud on the horizon was Hux. He had been in meetings all day long, thankfully. She didn’t see how she could work with him, and at 06:00 PM, she decided to speak with Helen about her doubts.

Rey tied up her desk, packed her things (including her work computer) in her bag, and went to knock to Helen’s office door.

“Come in.”

Rey pushed the door open and entered the Office. Helen's workspace was just like the woman herself: elegant, tidy with a delicious ambery woody scent.

“Rey! How was your first day?” the older woman asked.

“Very good, thank you Helen” Rey answered with a smile. “Mitaka was so helpful, I feel much more confident now. I think I will start working on the Halloween Charity Ball tomorrow.”

“Ah yes, the first event on the social calendar. Very good, I see that you are already familiar with your missions.”

“Yes and I already identified the interns who will be joining the team. But truthfully I still have a small concern. It is about Hux…” Before she was able to finish, Helen interrupted her with an apologetic look.

“Ah, Hux. I know that he is quite peculiar. You should know that he is the son of the previous Prime Minister Snoke.” Helen tilted her head and shared a look with Rey.

Rey bit her lower lip and nodded. She was beginning to understand why Hux had kept his job despite his blatant lack of skill.

“But I do have good news. Your supervisor is going to Manchester for three weeks. He was appointed head of a project this afternoon.” Helen smiled at Rey, both women sharing the feeling of relief. "It is unexpected; the project was supposed to be abandoned."

Rey was not going to complain; the timing could not have been more right.

Three weeks would be sufficient to gain some confidence and find a long-term solution to the Hux issue.

“Well, thank you for sharing this information Helen, I am thrilled for Mister Hux.”

“So am I. Is there anything else I can help you with Rey?”

"No, thank you, Helen. I wish you an excellent evening, and see you tomorrow."

“Likewise, Rey, see you tomorrow!”

Rey left Helen's Office, feeling lighter.

After a quick commute, Rey was back to her flat. Luckily, Poe and Finn were not home yet, which meant only one thing for Rey: an intimate reunion with her showerhead.

Even with zero sexual experience, Rey knew at least some _stuff:_ she had discovered by chance that the hot water stream could do wonders.

She went to the bathroom, checked –twice – that the door was locked, and quickly undressed. Once inside the shower stall, Rey turned on the knob and began to soap herself lazily with the Dove bar soap. The day had been stressful, and she wanted to relax.

Her soaped hands glided slowly on her neck, her arms, and her stomach. Since this morning, her cunt was still sensitive, and Rey rubbed her thighs together to create some friction.

_A deep voice asking her if she had been a good girl._

The tough bar soap was teasing her left nipple, and Rey felt slick running along her closed thighs. The soap had small exfoliating beads in it, and the rubbing sensation on her sensitive nipple was both painful and pleasurable.

The combination of the humid atmosphere and obscene gushing sounds coming from her thighs were dizzying: Rey leaned on the wall and greedily reached for the showerhead. When the warm water jet touched her clit, she closed her eyes and let the sensations take over.

_Such a hungry little virgin, with a thirsty little cunt._

Rey furiously rubbed the bar soap all over her breast now. She was covered in bubbles, her hands were messy with soap and sweat, but it was not enough.

In her mind, the water jet was replaced by a thick hard cock gliding along her slit. She could almost _feel_ the stiff shaft stroking her sensitive skin back and forth. The glide was rough; the cock was using her pussy as a plaything. Rey was panting loudly, lost in the sensations.

Dropping the soap to the ground, she reached her cunt with her free hand and circled her entrance. She was close; she could feel it: the water jet itself could not get rid of all the slick gathering.

_You’ve been dreaming of my cock for years. Now, be a good girl, and fucking take it._

She could almost see it – the dark gaze observing her while she was degrading herself.

With a sob, Rey slid a finger inside, and the combination of the new sensation with the water jet stimulation was heaven. Her entire body seized up as her orgasm torn through her – her finger sliding deeper and deeper. It was bliss.

Collapsing on the wall, she felt small electric currents running from her cunt to her toes.

Panting heavily, Rey rested her head on the wall.

That’s what I call a good ladywank, Rey thought, satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am looking for a Beta, and I can help back, in French or in English !!


	4. Chapter 4

Rey had a great first week. She could rely on Mitaka and Helen when she had questions, and her email inbox was quickly filling up.

Everybody seemed to have understood that Rey was in charge of the event's organization.

Nobody was mentioning Hux anymore, and Rey often wished that the situation would stay the same. Of course, she was aware that it was not possible, but a girl could dream.

On Friday morning, Rey had a meeting with the four other interns in charge of the Halloween ball: Steph, Andrea, Cecile and Thomas.

Mitaka had strongly endorsed the first two, and Rey trusted him completely. The last two had spontaneously come to Rey’s office to ask to join the team.

Rey loved people who were passionate about their jobs, and she had agreed wholeheartedly. The morning meeting had been very productive, and Rey was satisfied with her decision.

It was now the afternoon, and Rey was sitting in Helen's office. The office door was opened, Rey was sitting with her back to the door, and she could hear laughter coming from the corridors. 

It made Rey smile and forget for a few seconds about the heat in the office. It was hot as hell, and she was regretting her choice of attire. 

Rey had a few previous work experiences, and in most offices, casual Friday was still a thing. The Cabinet’s Office was no exception to the rule.

Rey herself was wearing casual clothes: with a tight jean and a white tank top tucked in her belt, she enjoyed being able to relax a little. Her "not-so-white-anymore" Converses were finishing her outfit.

The outfit was comfortable, but because of the heat, her jean was sticking to her skin.

It was hot as balls.

At first, she had been afraid that her look was too “casual”.

Luckily, Helen was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with palm trees and hibiscus flowers all over it. A free pass for Rey to wear whatever the hell she wanted.

With Hux gone, Rey had become closer to Helen: despite being almost twenty years older than Rey, Helen was easy to talk to. Her sense of humour, her precious pieces of advice and her professionalism were valuable gifts.

If only Manchester's project could last longer.

Rey was leaning on the desk, explaining to Helen her project proposal for the Halloween Ball. With an enthusiastic voice, she was pointing decoration items on her computer when Helen’s head rose.

“Ben! I am sorry, I did not see you. How long have you been standing there? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Members of the staff had interrupted Rey and Helen throughout the afternoon. Rey didn’t check the new joiner, intending to use the few minutes to prepare her next topic.

“Good afternoon Helen, I was hoping to have a quick talk with you. Is this a bad time?”

Rey's head instantaneously raised. Oh god, she _knew_ who was standing behind her.

It was _him_.

Oddly enough, Rey didn’t recognize him because of the “Ben” but because of his voice. A deep voice that she hadn’t heard all week but craved.

Why was he here?

Why did he want to talk to Helen?

Rey knew that Prime Ministers often relied on the Home Secretary, James Slack, for topics related to immigration and safety. James Slack was a very busy man and had a whole team working for him on the Cabinet Office's second floor.

Although Helen was officially his assistant, she was much more involved in Office matters. Occasionally, the woman acted as an adviser regarding laws and government decrees, but only for her husband. Definitively not for the Prime Minister.

Unable to do anything else, Rey turned around and looked up. And up. Up until she felt the back of her head touch her spine.

He was _that_ tall. The top his head was brushing the top of the doorframe.

Fortunately, he was not looking at her, for once. His eyes were looking at Helen, and Rey was definitively grateful for the small reprieve. She was in no condition to deal with his gaze right now: the man was wearing casual wear for fuck sake.

The Prime Minister was leaning against one side of the doorway, arm crossed. His rolled-up sleeves revealed thick and powerful forearms, with prominent veins.

The black and soft-looking black sweater he wore was doing nothing to conceal his well-built upper body, and the black trouser was no better.

He must have a killer butt in those pants, Rey thought.

She was aware that she was staring at him for way too long, but in her defence, he was so _near_. And he took so much _space_.

Now she was sure: if they stood side by side, Rey would only reach his upper stomach. With her 5'15 (yes 15, and not ten thank-you-very-much) most of the people around her were taller. But taller didn’t even begin to cover the size difference between Rey and Ben Solo.

In for a penny, in for a pound, Rey was still watching him when Helen replied. The young woman was barely listening, catching words such as “available for you” and “wanted to congratulate you”, but nothing mattered because the bastard smelled good. Sandalwood, let’s frolic in the woods after the rain – kind of good.

Rey scrunched up her nose in distaste: some people really had it all. 

“Rey?” called Helen.

Ohshishitshitshit.

Rey, who hadn’t listen to a word since the last two minutes, turned her head toward Helen. Externally, she was the embodiment of poise, with a small smile on her lips. Internally, she was trying to find a graceful exit while screaming.

“Y-yes indeed Helen. I’m going to make a coffee, can I bring you anything Helen?" Rey stood up from her chair and saw the woman shake her head. Then she looked at Ben Solo and stared at his chest. "Mister the Prime Minister?" And now she was rhyming.

She saw his crossed arms clenched, heard a deep “Yes, thank you” and escaped swiftly.

While she was going into the Office kitchen, her self-esteem plummeted. What.a.moron.

First, she was pretty sure that Helen had asked her a question, and Rey had replied: "Yes, indeed."

Yes, to what? Indeed to what? Goddamnit.

Then for her first meeting with the Prime Minister of UK, she had to go and trap herself into the coffee-girl position. In case he had forgotten than one of his employees was an ex-Starbucks barista, well, at least now he was aware.

The kitchen was very close to Helen’s office, and once in front of the coffee machine, Rey was still mopping while preparing the drink.

It was only when she was walking back to the office, that she realized she hadn’t asked what he wanted. And worst of all, she had instinctively prepared _his_ drink, Cold Brew with no cream.

She bit her lower lip, tugged on her braid and did a whole 360° before finally walking into Helen’s office.

The door was still open, but Helen was no longer there. Instead, Rey found Ben Solo sitting in her previous chair, his back to the door.

His massive frame was leaning on the desk, and from her position, Rey could see the soft fabric rolling over his shoulder blades.

The knowledge that they were alone in the same room and the blissful scent of sandalwood prevented Rey from understanding what the Prime Minister was looking at.

Then, once she gained her senses back, she saw that he was reading the project proposal on her computer.

What.an.awful.day

She voluntarily squeaked her Converses to let him know someone was there, not wanting to further extend her humiliation.

Instantly, his head rose and looked to the door. Looked at her.

Pinned by the intensity of his stare, Rey stop moving altogether.

Even sitting down, he was still slightly taller than Rey, and it was so unfair.

The Prime Minister eyes were drinking up her facial features: her tiny nose covered in auburn freckles, her full lips that she regularly moisturized with honey lip balm, her slender neck.

She could feel the weight of his stare and began to blush fiercely when she realized his eyes were moving down. Down to her white tank top scooped low enough to show delicate collarbones and just a hint of the white lace of her bralette.

Face red as a beetroot, Rey could not stop herself watching him watching her.

His eyes were still getting lower, and she _knew_ from the slight raise of his eyebrows that he was now looking at her hips. Her jeans were doing nothing to conceal her wide hips and the side bumps of her bubble-shaped butt.

Maybe the late afternoon setting sun was dimming the light because the Prime Minister eyes were darker than usual.

His gaze was now checking Rey’s beaten-up Converses, making Rey self-conscious: yes, there was a hole in the front of the left shoe, but so what? Not everyone had a Prime Minister paycheck.

His visual inspection had increased Rey's temperature by tenfold, and her mind was hovering between disbelief and horniness. Finally, the latter won when - _once again -_ Ben Solo’s gaze drifted back to Rey’s full hips.

The idea that he had to double-check that specific body part for whatever reason made her feel so weak.

So weak and so hot.

He had a clear look of disbelief on his face; his piercing gaze still focused on her round hips. Rey was almost expecting him to ask her to turn around: she would gladly oblige. Damn, she would even turn around and bend over to display her butt wantonly.

The man and his eyes, and the silence, and the tension, everything was making her hot. Her panties were getting damp at an alarming rate, and the need to press her thighs together was overwhelming.

 _Please, please, do something, say something_ , Rey thought.

She finally saw his eyes return to her face, and his expression was smouldering. He slowly licked his lips before opening his mouth, presumably to speak to her finally.

“Rey, you were quick!” said Helen’s voice from behind Rey’s back.

Breaking eye contact with the Prime Minister, Rey was roughly brought back to reality with Helen’s voice. She moved away from the office door, letting her mentor in.

What had just happened?

Helen’s voice stopped Rey’s train of thought: “I went to pick up last year Halloween Ball’s project binder, Rey. Ben was interested in knowing the average number of guests during the last three years: due to a new internal rule, we might have to reduce our budget for the event’s organization.”

Rey nodded: last year’s budget had been ludicrous, a complete abuse of taxpayers’ money.

"It's funny how great minds think alike Ben because Rey was just now sharing her idea for the project proposal. You will be glad to know that it already contains a budget cut.” Helen added.

Rey nodded quietly.

“Pray tell Miss Niima, what do you have in mind?” His voice was deep and throaty, and their gazes met once again.

The sudden awareness that she was talking to _Ben fricking Solo_ hit her. Nevertheless, she did her best to reply like a damn pro: “W-well as you may know, last year budget for this s-specific event was over the top. The Halloween celebration cost 35% more than the Christmas one."

Pause for dramatic purpose. “However, even with the exorbitant cost, the feedbacks of the Office members were not great. The main root cause was the invitation policy for 5+ ranks members only. This decision was not well received by the lower ranks and the Engagement data of November last year shows a lower score.”

The more she was talking, the more in control she felt. Rey was now moving and handed out his coffee to the Prime Minister.

“Opening the guest list to other ranks would increase the cost instead of reducing it.” he pointed out patiently, grabbing the drink.

“Yes, indeed it would. The main cost was the formal dinner. If we change the dinner into an _aperitif_ , we could be able to open the guest list to all the ranks and save up to 18%.”

Shortly after she finished her answer, Rey saw a smirk appear on his lips. Eyes shining like black onyx, he almost seemed pleased, as if he was expecting her to counteract his words.

But that cannot be true, right? The Prime Minister surely wasn't testing her for some obscure reason…right?

“Indeed, your point is excellent, Miss Niima” he replied, emphasizing the “ _very good_ ” with his gravelly voice. He was sipping his coffee slowly, his eyes never leaving her. “What would be the concept of the aperitif then?”

“W-well I was running some ideas through Helen” said Rey in a dazed voice. Her vision was zeroed in on his lips brushing the coffee cup lid. His soft-looking mouth seemed almost out of place on his strong face. 

_Very good, he said._

"Would you mind showing me?" He was now wearing a lopsided grin, and Rey heard a small gasp from Helen.

What was happening? Did she land into another dimension in which Ben Solo was nice?

Rey had seen his interviews. She had watched the general election debate. The guy had been ruthless, for fuck’s sake.

Off the top of her head, she could think of three different interviews in which reporters, after doing facts check, had apologized. He had _made_ them apologize on the spot.

 _No, I don’t mind showing you_ , she thought, _but in return would you care to explain what you did to the real Prime Minister?_

“It would be my pleasure” she said with a tiny smile. She sat down in the empty chair next to him and began to enthusiastically share her ideas for a few minutes. Next to her, Ben Solo was listening carefully, nodding from time to time, and sharing his feedback regarding specific points.

_He said my idea was excellent._

Through sheer willpower, Rey was able to stay focused: millions of tiny details were utterly distracting.

High on the list was his scent.

It surrounded her, woodsy, fresh and something indescribable. Rey was discreetly inhaling deep breaths whenever she could.

His black eyes were watching her, not even bothering to look at her computer screen when she was pointing something.

This was also very distracting.

His broad hands were resting on his trouser clad thighs, and the space between their chairs was not huge. She could easily reach out and touch his hand if she wanted. And oh she wanted.

Very, very distracting. _And he said my idea was excellent._

Luckily, a ringtone rang into the room, preventing Rey to do something stupid. Like nuzzling the neck of the Prime Minister for instance.

She looked back to her computer to regain her composure and heard him pick up his phone.

“WHAT?” he barked to his phone all of sudden, and Rey jumped in her chair. “I told you before, I.DON’T.CARE” He was snarling, sounding very much like the Ben Solo from the interviews.

Sitting next to her, his hostile voice was so near.

“He can go to hell, for all I care!”

All the previous warmth was now gone, and Rey’s blood turned into ice: verbal abuse was something she was very familiar with and avoided it at all costs.

She stood up, took her computer and gave Helen a small nod before leaving with haste.

She reached her office and sat behind her desk with a breath of relief. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she glanced at her cellphone: it was half-past six, and she was late to the bar.

Poe and Finn were probably already waiting for her.

Luckily, she had Helen’s number: she sent her a quick text and put her things in her handbag. Rey was glad that the day was over; she was exhausted.

She left her office, and just when she was turning into the left corridor, she suddenly collided in full force with something _massive_. 

With the shock of the impact, Rey stumbled and lost balance. She had run into someone and was just grateful when she realized that she was _not_ falling.

Two powerful arms were now gently wrapped around her, and she _knew_ , she just _knew_ who it was.


	5. Chapter 5

In the middle of west wing corridor of the 4th floor, Rey was currently in a pickle.

Pressed into a hard chest, she was just recovering from the shock of the collision when a whiff of sandalwood reached her nose.

Wait a minute; she knew that scent.

She knew the person attached to the pectoral muscles she could feel against her cheek: it was the same scent that she had sniffed in Helen's Office.

Ben Solo’s scent.

Rey’s heart began to pound loudly in her chest. Her body was completely sank into the Prime Minister’s frame, and she felt so small compared to him. Rey’s head was lying between two well-developed pectoral muscles, bobbing at the same rhythm as his breathing.

He was breathing quickly now, and his heat was scorching: the warmth of his skin was spreading from her cheek to the rest of her body.

During the collision, the Prime Minister had reached with his massive arms to steady her up, and his huge biceps were now encasing her at shoulder-level. Another reminder of how much he dwarfed her.

All the sounds around Rey were muffled down, making it easier for her to hear his rapid breath intakes as well as a low and quiet rumble. At first, she believed that the sound was coming from a cellphone or another device, except the growl was coming from him. She could feel the rumbling against her cheek, for God's sake.

A few seconds went by. The low sound, the heat and the scent soothed Rey to the extent that not once she had thought about pulling away from him.

This was heaven. She never knew that people could get turned on in heaven.

Nevertheless, here she was, with soaked panties and her throbbing cunt.

Finally, he broke the spell.

“Where did you go?” he asked Rey, his deep voice just above Rey’s head. His every word were resonating in his chest.

“I thought we were finished, I was going home.” Rey responded softly. Immediately she felt his arms tighten up around her.

When he replied, his voice was rough.

“I don’t mean _today_.”

Forgetting yet again to pull away, Rey tried to understand his cryptic words. What did he mean? They had never talked since she started to work in the Cabinet’s Office. If she had to guess, last time they spoke together was probably around… 5 years ago? When she was working at Starbucks?

But… he couldn’t mean that, right? He was most certainly _not_ asking her where she went after her Starbucks period. For it would mean that he remembered her.

Trying to gain some clues, Rey raised her head and instantly met two dark orbs watching her fiercely. She almost recoiled from the intensity of his stare.

He needed her to understand what he was saying, and his eyes were trying to get the message across.

Even with their size difference, it was still the first time Rey was so close to him: she could see his full lips and the shadow of his shaved stubble on his cheeks in 4K.

With this new closeness, she was overwhelmed with the urge to rub her breast on his chest to relieve some of her sexual tension.

Would it bother him to slide his large leg between hers? So she could rub her pussy on his leg, just a little bit. Rey was dizzy with want. Want for his arms, the heat from his hands splayed on her back, and his scent, and his eyes.

She was pretty sure that the overflow of sensation would be able to make her come in less than two minutes.

His spread fingers moved slightly down her back, and Rey felt a gush of slick wetting her underwear. Okay, time to stop before she made a fool of herself.

She pushed her arms against his torso ( _when did they get there?)_ , hoping that her wetness had not reached her jean.

As soon as her body moved away, a sensation of coldness hit her. Trying to regain some warmth, she wrapped her arms around herself, and she looked at him once again.

Boy did he looked pissed.

It was the Prime Minister from the Office on the phone all over again, with the scowl and the stern look.

Frowning, Rey tried to reply to his previous comment: “I don't think I understand. I'm sorry I ran into you. I'll be more careful from now on."

The Prime Minister kept staring at her, saying nothing. Why did it look like it wasn’t what he wanted to hear?

His expression was dark, and the cold that he seemed to emit was reaching her body. Rey was at lost, not knowing what to do or what to say.

Was he angry with her? Why did he look so frustrated?

Suddenly he was raised his right arm in a quick motion, and instinctively Rey recoiled. Her instinct took over, she closed her eyes, and a feeble whimper left her lips.

A part of her knew – hoped - that he was not going to hit her.

But _his arm_ …

And _his scowl_ …

…

But nothing came.

With a ragged breath, she straightened and opened her eyes. There he was, few feet away from her, a look of pure shock on his face. His arm was now frozen in the air.

Rey reached out to her bag with a fast and frantic move and walked away quickly, wanting to put as much distance as possible between her and that moment.

Still shaken to the core, she heard a muffled "Rey" as she took the stairs two at a time.

When she finally reached the entrance door, she was able to calm her breath.

The chilling air outside was biting: she realized she forgot her scarf in her Office, and she decided to focus on the small sensations instead of thinking.

The hard pavement under her feet when she was walking.

The loud traffic noises around her.

The moist heat inside the tube.

Then the relief when she was inserting the key in the lock of her flat.

Throwing her bag on the floor, Rey walked to the couch in her dream-like state and collapsed on it. With the heel of her hands, she rubbed her eyes and let the world fade away.

Finn found her in the same position half an hour later and immediately crouched down near the couch.

“Rey, Peanut, what is it?”

She didn’t reply, not giving any indication that she heard him. Underneath her hands, her eyes were red and bruised from the tears and the intense friction.

Finn knew better than trying to touch her during those moments. He settled for trying to reach her through soothing words.

"Rey, you had a bad day, is that correct? Did something happen? You are home now; you’re safe. Home. With Poe and you and I. We’re good. You’re good.” His voice was low, near Rey’s head.

Rey finally stirred a little and moved her hand away from her eyes.

“I… t’was… he was… and then I…” she stuttered.

Upset by her inability to explain calmly, Rey tried to move her hands back to her eyes once again. It was easier when she could block out the world from her view. But Finn slowly reached for her hands and stopped her while whispering small encouragements “That’s okay, you’re good, you’re home.”

Quietly, her friend spoke to her until her breathing was calm. With his words, Finn lulled Rey into sleep and went to search for a blanket as soon as she was asleep.

Just after wrapping her up in the blanket, he looked for his phone to call Poe. It had been a while since Rey’s last crisis and Poe was going to be pissed.

What the fuck happened in the Cabinet’s Office?

***************************************************

On Sunday morning, Rey was feeling like herself again.

She had slept all Friday night and a good part of Saturday as well. The stress of her first week had most likely weighted on her. It was the only reason why she had reacted so strongly at that time.

She was doing very good, she thought. Finn and Poe were also saying that she was doing good, so it must be true.

_But do you remember the look on his face?_

She did not know the origin of his dissatisfaction, and she did not care.

_He looked pissed; he was angry with you._

She was good, Finn and Poe told her so, and she believed them.

Trying to stop her train of thought, Rey was flipping through the channels absent-mindedly. She was hesitating between National Geographic channel and E! Entertainment, going back on forth between the seabird breeding behaviour and the latest celebrity gossip. Then she caught _his name_.

Immediately, Rey switched back to the gossip channel.

"…Ben Solo who was not happy to be followed by journalists. Since he took Office, every media have been speculating on the content of his first address to the Parliament. His first statement will likely be during next week session.” The first anchor of the show seemed professional enough, stating information about the Prime Minister’s agenda.

However, the second anchor was there for the tea: “It is not the only thing that people are speculating about. Ben Solo is the youngest Prime Minister in recent history, and he also is the first single Prime Minister since 1953. All of his predecessors were married when they took Office. Since his election, tabloids have been moving heaven and earth trying to find pictures of the New Prime Minister with a woman.” The anchor sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, no pictures were found. Or fortunately, imma right ladies?”

The two women giggled on the screen, and Rey was slowly but surely becoming annoyed. When did journalism become this piece of crap?

“Everyone with two eyes can see he is one _fine_ -looking man. Did you see his debate with Mr Johnson? He looked huge next to him. And you know what they say about huge men…" the anchor was winking to the camera, and Rey abruptly switched off the telly. What a shitty show.

She already knew Ben Solo was huge: two days ago, she was in his frickin' arms, of course, she _knew_. She was also painfully aware that he was attractive.

During her first week as a barista, her female colleagues were whispering about the guy. He even had a nickname: “The BSG” as in “The Big Sexy Giant". When Rey finally met him (and messed up his drink), she understood where the nickname was coming from. He was indeed sexy. And giant.

His huge body was perfect. Perfect for protecting, for enclosing and for pleasing. Rey remembered very well how safe she had felt in his arms two days ago. Before, well, before… he got angry.

_Before you made him angry._

No, nope, she was not accountable of other’s people emotions. If he was angry, it was his problem, not hers.

_He was angry because you were a bad girl._

Rey rose quickly and decided to go for a walk. Fuck it, she was going to MacDonald’s to pick a few apple pies. She needed apple pies.

***************************************************

On Monday morning, Rey was back to work, ready to take over the world.

She knew that the slight bruises under her eyes were still visible, but nothing could ruin her good mood. She had a belly full of leftover apple pies, and Poe’s sweet words were still ringing in her ears.

With a meeting on the Office's left-wing at 9:00 AM, Rey didn’t have enough time to swing by her Office. She went directly to the conference room.

As soon as she sat down, she texted Helen to inform her about her whereabouts and listened intently to the speaker.

The meeting was the New Hires Orientation and was full of useful information regarding the Office’s organization.

Overall, when she walked back to her Office at 11:30 AM, she was satisfied with her morning.

Of course, that was before she heard shouting in the middle of her floor.

Even worse, the closer she was to her Office, the better she could hear someone yelling. Her office door was closed, and it was painfully obvious now that the confrontation was happening in her own working space.

It was also pretty clear who was shouting: the deep voice was recognizable and unforgettable.

Rey stepped away from her door, not wanting to be the recipient of Ben Solo’s wrath. It seemed that she was not the only one who had chosen the strategic retreat as the corridor and common spaces were suspiciously empty.

As soon as she reached the corner of the corridor, Rey saw her door burst open. A fuming Hux left her Office, each of his angry steps echoing on the hardwood floor. Thank God, he went the other way.

Rey was definitively not ready to go into her Office, but she soon realized she wouldn’t need to anyway: a loud "HELEN" came from Rey's Office and she saw her mentor quickly leaving her Office to go to Rey's.

She just barely had time to hear Ben Solo’s voice snarling “Care to explain why is this piece of shit” with a bitter tone before the door was slammed shut.

Thank God for small mercies: with her morning training, she had successfully avoided both Hux and the Prime Minister.

But what was Hux doing in London? Was he not supposed to be working in Manchester for two more weeks?

And what was Ben Solo doing in her Office? His Office wasn’t even in this building.

Rey decided to put some distance between her and potential problems and went outside the Office building to buy her lunch despite her curiosity. Not knowing if Helen had already bought hers, Rey purchased two huge sandwiches from the local bakery.

And she took her sweet time, slowwwwly reaching for her wallet when it was time to pay.

It took her 20 minutes to come back to the Office, instead of the usual 10 minutes. It was cold as hell today, and Rey was mourning her warm scarf patiently waiting in her Office.

When she reached her floor, she was grateful to see that her Office was now empty. With the excuse of the sandwich, Rey sneaked a peek through Helen's door and saw that her mentor was behind her desk.

“Helen? Is everything okay?” asked Rey.

Helen raised her head from her computer and made a face to Rey. Obviously, everything was not okay.

“It’s fine; we just had a small situation this morning." Helen sighed. "Hux had the marvellous idea to come back to London and monitor the Manchester project remotely.”

Rey, who had entered the Office and dropped one of the sandwiches on the desk, froze. It wasn’t good news.

Helen perceived Rey's expression and nodded. "Yes, that was my reaction as well. Fortunately or unfortunately, Ben was nearby this morning and saw Hux. Needless to say, he was _pissed_.”

Helen’s sight seemed to be coming from the deepest part of her lungs. “I don’t think I mentioned it, but it was Ben who put Hux on this project last Monday.”

So, Rey had to thank the Prime Minister for escaping Hux. But depending on the type of project, maybe it could be considered as a favour?

“Why is Hux back in London if he is working on the Manchester project? Is the project not a great opportunity for his career?”

“Well, between you and I, the reason why it was almost dropped was because the Manchester extension office is a dead-end. Anyone leading this project will most likely fail, and in case of failure, the project leader will need to do some damage control locally. With this mission, Hux was symbolically being buried in Manchester.” Helen looked at Rey while chewing her sandwich. “No wonder he tried to sneak back this morning.”

Even if Rey was not fond of people being buried, she was definitively grateful for the opportunity of doing her internship without Hux harassing her.

“No, the real surprise is why is Ben coming around her so _often_?” Helen was talking to herself now, a faraway look in her eyes.

“I mean, he’s the Prime Minister, correct? Isn’t he supposed to be around here?” Rey was curious: she had been working in the Office for a week and had crossed his path thrice now.

“Rey, do you know how many time I met Snoke during his term?”

“I would say, at least once a month?” Rey guessed, with a questioning look.

“Never. I never met the guy.”

Helen’s words were final, and Rey bit her tongue accidentally while finishing the last part of her sandwich. While swallowing the mix of bread and blood, she tried to unravel the prime minister's mystery.

He could be sweet one second then brooding the next.

He was famous for his short temper, but at the same time, he had been listening calmly when they had spoken in Helen's Office.

He always seemed cold and uninterested, but Rey remembered his burning eyes perfectly staring at her face from above.

Rey would have paid a lot of money to understand what was going on his Ben Solo’s head.

No, never mind, she was broke.

Anyhow, after Friday’s mess, she was pretty sure that he was no longer going to try to engage with her.

Helen and Rey finished their lunches, and after a quick chat in which Rey had to lie regarding the light bruises under her eyes, Rey went to her Office. She dropped her bag and opened the window to get some fresh air.

The chill made her look for her well-worn scarf, but it was nowhere in sight.

She glanced at the coat rack and saw that instead of her beige scarf, a charcoal grey scarf was hanging. Rey took it between her cold fingers: most likely made of cashmere, the scarf was incredibly soft, and the scent coming from it was intoxicating.

Rey checked to see if she was still alone in her Office, and unable to resist, stuck her nose into the fabric. Yeah, it was undoubtedly _his_ scarf.


	6. Chapter 6

2 hours. That was the time Rey held back.

Two hours of tapping ferociously on her keyboard while trying to sniff from afar the scarf. It was just there, on her desk, between her notebook and her phone. The sandalwood fragrance was barely perceptible.

Once or twice, Rey stopped resisting and stroked the fabric. It was warm as if someone had just worn it. When Rey remembered the garment owner, she quickly put it back on her desk and chastised herself. No doubt the Prime Minister would not be happy knowing that someone else had touched his scarf.

At 3:00 PM, she sighed heavily and reached for it once again.

Rey weighed the pros and cons.

Cons: it was not her scarf. The owner would be pissed. Some of her scents would potentially stick to the garment. She didn’t know if she could get fired over wearing a scarf, but she didn’t want to find out.

Pros: it smelled divine. She was cold, and she knew that the scarf would give her the exact amount of warmth she needed. Nobody was here, and Nobody had to know that she had been wearing it.

Finally, it was the memory of the moment shared on Friday that tipped the scales. Rey took the scarf and with a shiver of delight, wrapped it around her neck. It was so soft; the fabric slid along her bare skin in a gentle caress.

She felt safe. And cosy. And tingly.

Rey knew she had to be alert and ready to take it off quickly. But in the meantime, _oh boy_ , she would enjoy it.

One hour later, Rey’s attention was entirely focused on the final version of the Ball's budget proposal. Unconsciously, whenever she was stuck on a tricky calculation, she was playing with the end of the scarf. Her nose was buried into the soft fabric, the woodsy scent helping her to relax.

If she could change the flower supplier, then she could save up to 5k from the decoration budget and use it on the food. 5k was precisely the amount needed to switch from the Event Prestige Package to the Premium one. But where would she find a new reliable supplier?

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear when the fire alarm went off. To her credit, the sound was barely reaching her Office. The alarm rang once, then twice and the third time, Helen, who was quickly leaving the floor, noticed that Rey was still in her Office.

“Rey! The fire alarm went off. Hurry up, let’s get out!”

Rey jumped from her chair and grabbed her phone before hastily moving through the door. Together they hurried down the stairs and made it outside. They were the last ones to leave the building.

“Just a few more seconds and you would have been burned by the fake fire” The snarky comment came from behind Rey.

She turned around and spotted Thomas leaning against the building’s wall with a playful smile. Her fellow intern looked at her from above: yet another reminder that she was an ant living in a world of giants.

She turned back to Helen, and after making sure that the older woman was safe, she walked towards her team member.

Thomas was 22 years old but definitively looked older. She had a hard time believing that he was doing an internship as well. With his sandy hair, light blue eyes, and broad build, he could pose as one of the senior managers.

Whereas Mitaka referred Steph and Andrea, Thomas had come to her Office and volunteered to be part of the team. If there was something that Rey loved more than apple pies, it was passionate people.

Even now, she remembered his reply when she had asked him his motivation: with an unflinching gaze, he had stated that _she_ was his motivation.

If the only reason to join the project was Rey’s leadership, what did it say about Rey’s boss? Her colleagues seemed to truly loath Hux.

A few hours later after Thomas's visit, Cecile also had come to Rey’s Office. The girl was most likely around 19 years old but did everything to look older: black high heels, face heavy of makeup with a bright red lipstick, her appearance was sophisticated. The complete opposite of Rey.

At her request, Rey had shared the team members' names. Only then had Cecile volunteered.

Cecile had such a great taste. Rey relied heavily on her to bring a chic touch to the Ball.

Rey moved towards Thomas and noticed that Cecile was leaning on the wall as well. As per usual, when Thomas was there, Cecile was never very far.

“What’s up?” Rey asked with a smile.

“Nothing much” replied Thomas playfully. Before narrowing his eyes. “What happened to your eyes?”

"Oh, that?" Rey tried to imitate a laugh. "It's just my allergies. You know how it is".

Her reply brought a sceptic look on Thomas's face, but Cecile interrupted him before he could reply.

"I could never live with allergies. The amount of time I spend on my makeup is obscene, no way in hell I would want to ruin it." Cecile shot a sympathetic look to Rey. “Luckily, it’s not an issue for you”.

Rey just shrugged her shoulders. Cecile had a point.

"Is it just me, or is it kind of chilly today?" asked Rey to change the subject. Immediately, she saw Thomas's hand reaching for his jacket zipper, but Cecile's voice interrupted his motion: “Guys, take a look over there. It’s the Prime Minister!”

Rey turned around. She had met Ben Solo a few times by now, nothing he could do would surprise her.

And boy, she was wrong.

The Prime Minister dressed in a three-piece black suit and talking to another Office’s member was a sight to behold. Brawny arms crossed, his height set him apart from the rest of the staff waiting in the garden.

Could she get used to his size one day? She doubted it.

While she was staring, she could hear Cecile speaking: “Wow, he’s so much bigger in person.” Rey mumbled noncommittally. That was an understatement.

_What is he talking about?_

_Is he annoyed by the work interruption?_

_Does he realize that all the women in the garden are checking him out?_

Almost as if he could hear her questions, the Prime Minister’s head turned toward Rey, and his gaze found her. Exactly like during his official greeting, his expression froze.

Something akin to guilt, and worry flashed in his eyes. Rey saw him clenched and unclenched his fists before running a hand through his hair.

Then he lowered his gaze, and his expression turned into awe. It was fascinating to watch his well-made sturdy expression turn into something else entirely: he looked almost ruined now.

Rey followed his gaze and understood right away: he was looking at his scarf. is

More accurately, his scarf around her neck.

Even the chilly wind was not sufficient to calm the raging blush that reached her cheeks. He knew she was wearing his scarf.

And now, because she was blushing and fidgeting, he knew that she knew that he knew she was wearing his scarf.

A violent shiver ran through her. Wearing someone else’s clothes was an intimate act, and Rey knew she had overstepped.

“Rey” Thomas was calling her. Rey saw that her colleague was now next to her. “You look like you’re cold”. He quickly removed his jacket and offered it to her, in a clear invitation.

However, the temperature had little to do with Rey’s shivering state.

Quickly, she looked back to Ben Solo to assess the situation, and her brain broke. He was walking towards her. Looking pissed. Yet again.

No doubt he was going to kill her for the scarf.

Or worst, fire her.

Full body shivering, she watched him walk while stripping away his suit jacket.

Why did he look ready to jump into a boxing ring?

Never mind, Rey did not want to know the answer.

Most of the Office’s members were getting back into the building now, and Rey used the opportunity to blend into the crowd, leaving the complicated situation behind.

She walked up the stairs and tried to shrink herself. Not that she needed it, considering her size.

Rey decided to avoid her office for a little bit, a much-needed precaution knowing that the Prime Minister was potentially looking for her.

To fire her.

According to Rey, the best defence was a strategic retreat, and that tactic had worked times and times again.

Take this morning, for instance.

A morning meeting far away from her Office? A successful escape from both Hux and Ben Solo.

Yes, Rey was better off going to Mitaka's Office to ask for some advice.

Advice that she absolutely could not ask at a different time, _of course_.

Around 5:30 PM, it was time for Rey to finish her workday. Arms loaded with documents from Mitaka, she went back to Office with a heavy heart. What if today was her last day?

It was well-known that Ben Solo was not a tolerant man. His unyieldingness was one of the personality traits that helped him reach the top.

There was no way he could tolerate a nobody wearing his scarf.

Rey pushed open the door of her office, ready to face the consequences of her actions.

But it was empty.

With a frown, Rey turned back and walked to Helen's Office. The door was opened, and Helen was sitting behind her desk.

“Helen? Everything okay?”

Helen raised her head and smiled at Rey.

Okay, weird way to announce their dismissal to someone. 

"Oh, you're here! The fire drill was a mess, did you see Samantha running away from the building? So funny" giggled Helen.

Her laugh was contagious, and despite the situation, Rey smiled back. "No, it didn't, but I wish I did! So… Anything new?"

Rey was not planning to lie: she was still wearing the scarf for god’s sake.

“No, nothing new…” Helen paused. “No wait, you’re right, I need to talk to you about something.”

And there it was.

Helen was standing up and moved to close the door. The Office became silent, and Helen's steps from the door back to her chair echoed loudly to Rey's ears.

“It seems that there was an issue.” stated Helen.

Rey’s clammy hands were gripping her thighs.

“I’m very sorry about it, but there was a mix-up in your internship agreement. The final document indicated a monthly wage of 2.500£ per month, which is incorrect.”

The discussion was not going into the direction that Rey had imagined. Why bother about wage when termination was on the agenda?

“I’ve been informed by a third party that Hux’s salary was much higher than the amount stated in your contract. Hereafter you will receive the same amount that him for the duration of his replacement.” Helen slid a document that looked like a new version of Rey’s internship agreement on her desk.

"From a personal point of view, I think this is an excellent decision. You're a great addition to the team, and I already received great feedback from people working with you."

Traitorous tears were building up in Rey’s eyes, ready to spill every time she blinked. Helen’s praise was heartwarming. Rey nodded weakly, a small smile on her lips.

“Thank you Helen” Rey said shyly. “I love my job, and working with you is a privilege”.

Helen tut-tutted her. “Nonsense Rey, the pleasure’s all mine. Now take the paper, go home and sign it. I’ll be expecting you tomorrow at 9:00 AM to review your latest proposal.”

Nodding once again, Rey took the agreement and left Helen's Office.

Reaching her door, Rey entered her Office and decided to check the revised agreement.

Holy.shit.

How much was Hux earning? How much was _she_ going to earn?

The silence in her Office seemed to increase the noise from her thoughts. Head spinning, Rey had to sit down.

Was it even legal for an intern to earn that much?

Lost in thought, Rey stirred in her chair. Something was poking her back… Putting the document on her desk, Rey reached for the object resting on the back of her chair.

It was a jacket. A black suit jacket.

Her mind blanked. Only one thought emerged from the vast empty space that was her brain: this was Ben Solo’s jacket. The one he was wearing during the drill.

Earth had stopped turning, and the stillness of it all was mimicking the one in Rey’s mind. Thinking was overrated: why bother when the suit jacket of the Prime Minister was on her chair.

Rey had expected a termination and instead had found Ben Solo’s expensive jacket.

Was it an oversight from him?

Ben Solo was a lot of things, but one thing he was not was an airhead. Every single of his actions meant something.

Rey had been foolish to think the scarf was a lost item. She had forgotten that it was _his_ scarf she was talking about.

And now, _his_ jacket.

Rey slowly stroked the soft wool. Every time the fabric touched her bare skin, she was flooded by a heatwave.

Completely mollified.

It should be illegal to have such soft clothing.

Rey rose from her chair in a drunken state and put her stuff in her bag while keeping the folded jacket glued to her chest. Stumbling, she managed to exit the building and reached the garden.

It was already dark outside, and the obscurity was in her favour. Near a peony bush stood a wooden bench, and she dropped her bag on it. With trembling fingers, Rey carefully unfolded the jacket and put it on.

Throughout her adolescence, the idea of “home” had been foreign to Rey. For as long as she could remember, she had always been a temporary presence her foster families homes.

Learning to adapt quickly, always keeping a suitcase ready just in case, trying to find sustenance by any means necessary… Children growing up in the foster care system had to learn particular skills to survive. And be able to feel at home was not one of those skills.

It was only recently that Rey had learned to rely on Finn and Poe. Rey was able to feel safe with their daily routine: she needed stability and predictability because she had none for a long time.

But despite what they said, the flat was still Finn, and Poe's and Rey was definitively feeling like the third wheel. She often tried to give them space and did not want to impose.

Long story short, Rey never had a place to call home.

So how could this jacket smell like _home_?

Like a Sunday morning in bed and snuggles by the fire?

Like a lazy afternoon nap in the couch?

Like a glimpse of Ben Solo’s inner self?

Rey was warm and cosy and drunk on the scent. The jacket was enormous on her; the hem fell mid-thigh, and the long sleeves covered her hands.

Wearing it felt like being wrapped in a pair of strong arms; the intimacy that came with it was devastating.

Absent-mindedly, Rey grabbed her bag and walked toward the tube entrance, her free hand caressing the sleeve's fabric. It was almost like touching him.

******************************************************

That evening, Poe grilled her about the jacket.

“I just want to understand, how can you leave in the morning with your Tesco sweater on your back and go home at night with a Brioni jacket?”

“What’s Brioni?” asked Finn and Rey at the same time.

“Oh, I don’t know, only the most expensive brand in the world” Poe rolled his eyes, but his hands were still reverently touching the jacket. “Seriously this single stuff cost more than 5000 £. Who gave you this?”

Not responding, Rey got up from the couch to retrieve the jacket from Poe’s hands. He was looking a little too interested for her tastes.

“Nobody gave me this, per se. Someone forgot it in my office.” she said noncommittally.

“Nobody forgets a Brioni.”

Rey was beginning to believe that indeed this jacket had not been forgotten. She sat back with the blazer in hand, not responding to Poe’s question.

The fabric was smooth and handcrafted details were giving to the jacket a luxurious vibe. While touching the front pockets, Rey felt something inside one of them.

She slipped her fingers inside and retrieved a small piece of paper. In elegant handwriting, 11 digits were written on it.

And just below, ‘Ben’.

All the blood inside Rey’s body rushed to her panties.

Not wasting one second, she got back on her feet, and with the jacket in hand, all but ran to her room.

She was aware that Finn was calling her, but she had more important things to do.

Once in her bed, Rey grabbed her phone with a pounding heart. She planned to send a message to the jacket owner to inform him about his clothing's whereabouts.

Given this stuff’s price, any owner would be thrilled to know his jacket was not lost.

And a small part of her was hoping that the note was for her.

The same part that compelled her to slide her hand into her panties, while the other one was adding the number to her contact.

Rey opened a new message and thought about what she could write.

The movement of her fingers over the fabric was teasing and slow.

Finally, she made up her mind: "Good evening. I'm sorry to bother you, but it seems I have your jacket".

Nice, and to the point.

She simultaneously pressed send and nudged her covered clit with her fingernail. Rey blushed, her hips lightly raising to meet her hand.

Message or not, she had enough material to have a fantastic session tonight.

Rey checked her clock: it was 10:30 PM, so the jacket owner was probably not going to reply that late. She pulled off her pyjama short as well as her top and slipped under the covers. The jacket was now resting on her bare chest, and Rey slowly rubbed her tits on it. The wool was the perfect amount of scratchy.

She’d also rub her pussy on it if she were not afraid of getting it wet.

Her nose was buried in the fabric, and she was sniffing the scent like there was no tomorrow.

Rey was about to take care of her panties situation when she heard a notification sound from her phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the story so far ! Thank you for all your nice comments :D  
> Things will heat up from now on, if you know what I mean ~


	7. Chapter 7

Rey’s heart was beating so loudly in her chest.

Her phone was now in her clammy hands, but she didn’t dare to look. The idea that the message in her phone was potentially from Ben Solo was nerve-racking.

The Prime Minister was now becoming a recurring presence in her daily life. Even when he wasn’t physically there, he was the subject of the Office member’s conversations. He was on the telly, in the newspapers. He was also in Rey’s thoughts. A lot.

She unlocked her phone.

The reply was short: “Do you, now? How strange.”

Was he taking the piss out of her?

It was always difficult to understand someone’s tone through text. Maybe he had really lost his jacket. He probably owned more clothes than he could ever wear, one jacket disappearance could go unnoticed.

It was likely that he didn’t even know whom he was talking to.

Before she was able to reply, another message popped up on her screen.

“Did you wear it?”

Rey gulped.

It could only mean two things.

One, he was angry someone else had his jacket and was checking if she dared to wear it. And indeed she had.

Two… well, two was wayyyy dirtier.

Not knowing where to stand, Rey chewed her lower lips and took a sniff out of the jacket to collect her thoughts. Chances were high she was actually talking to her boss himself, so she had to proceed with caution.

And because she was not dishonest, she texted: “Yes, I am sorry, I was cold on the way home. I will bring it to the dry cleaner before returning it.”

Despite her apprehension, Rey knew she was doing the right thing in being truthful. Someone could have seen her wearing it in the street.

The divine smell of the jacket alone was probably worth being fired.

Opening the buttons, Rey brought the inner fabric closer to her nose. She could smell a light musky smell under the sandalwood tones. A man smell.

The need to put the fabric in her mouth, to taste him on her tongue was growing. She patted her covered cunt once again, in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the tension.

He wanted to know if she had worn the jacket. If his own smell was now clinging to her. 

Taking one of the sleeves, Rey rubbed it against her neck, a moan leaving her lips. Now their scents were truly mixed.

Would he be satisfied? Or would he want to rub something else against her skin?

Something muskier.

The notification bell chose this moment to ring. With a frustrated sigh, Rey took her phone and checked the message.

“No, you can keep it.”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting that she kept the overpriced jacket. Apparently, this man didn’t understand the value of money.

“I assure you that it will be as good as new once I bring it to the cleaner” she insisted.

His reply came only a few seconds later.

“Good girls follow orders, Rey. Don’t you want to be good?”

Oh yes, she did. She wanted to be so good for him.

One of her fingers sneaked down under her panties and caressed her slit. With a languorous movement from her tight hole to her sensitive clit, her finger smeared her wetness all over her cunt. Even muffled by the cover, she could hear the squelching noise: she was _that_ wet.

Wet and sweet and tight for him.

He would make it fit; she was sure of it. His whole cock would be only for her, for her untrained – unused – pussy.

Her breath was short, and she tentatively pushed one finger inside. Not moving it at first, giving herself the time to adjust to the foreign sensation.

With her other hand, she sent her reply.

“Yes, I want to be good.”

Lost in a haze of lust, she sent the text without even blushing. Her cold finger was gripped between her walls, and Rey pushed it until the second knuckles. With her free hand, she was holding the jacket against her face, trying to smell _him_ as much as possible.

When the phone rang again, she was thrusting back and forth her finger in earnest.

“You are, sweetheart. You’re so good” she could read, and oh she was so close. He was a wicked man; the praises were fueling her lust. And the nickname, god, the nickname. Nobody had called her ‘sweetheart’ before. Nobody but him, and his huge arms and his massive body that would engulf her.

Hurriedly, she turned on her stomach, grabbed a pillow and began to rub herself on it desperately. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was his enormous thigh.

_You’re my good girl, so wet._

Only for you, only for you.

Her chest was rubbing against the mattress, her delicate nipples not used to the rough treatment. The light pain heightened her pleasure: it was no longer caused by the friction of her sheets but by his greedy mouth feeding on her nipples.

Only one of his gigantic hand would be enough to knead both her tits like dough. He would be starving, ready to suck, bite, lick and eat every part of her body.

Rey was moaning so much now, her panties, her pillow, everything was drenched. She only needed a final push, one more stroke, only one sec…

Her phone came to life again, and she hazily read: “Wear my jacket tomorrow. And my scarf.” Immediately, her pussy clenched and an unbearable pleasure rolled through her system. She couldn’t do anything but sob as she felt herself gush all over her pillow, soaking it.

_My good girl is giving me all that slick._

She could hear his voice, her walls tightened again, and again, while Rey was riding the longest orgasm of her life.

Finally, the wave of pleasure began to slow down. Her pussy was now rubbing slowly against her pillow, and Rey reread his last text messages. They were full of sexual innuendos.

She was breathing slowly, the post-orgasm bliss reaching her. With the amount of insinuations in his messages, she could allow herself to send back at least one ambiguous answer.

Rey grabbed her phone one last time and quickly wrote down “Yes, Sir”.

That should do it.

********************************************

The following morning, Rey had followed the orders to the letter. She was wearing a beige plaid skirt that complimented well the oversized black jacket. The sleeves were rolled up, and the soft scarf was tied loosely around her neck.

She was dressed in the Prime Minister clothes.

Shame and excitement, and nervousness, and thousands of other feelings were submerging her when she arrived at the Office.

It was still early. Rey loved being one of the first at the Office; the stillness soothed her.

Entering her office, she began to take her things out of her bag when her phone chimed.

With shaking fingers, she unlocked it only to found out it was a HuffPost notification.

“A fire broke out last night in a waste management plant Glasgow” the title said. “The smoke and dust from a blaze at a waste management and treatment plant in the east end of Glasgow contained no toxic chemicals, the fire service has said. However, at least four employees of the plant passed away. The newly appointed Prime Minister of UK Ben Solo is already on site, allegedly to talk to the families of the victims”.

Rey stopped her reading.

She should be ashamed to think about herself when people had died in a fire.

And _yet_ , she was disappointed. She was not going to see him today.

Well, it was maybe for the best: she may have mistaken the meaning of his messages entirely. Ordering people around could be a hobby of him. Given his controlling persona broadcasted in the media, Rey wouldn’t be surprised.

Hell, she was not even 100% sure that the messages were from Ben Solo.

Someone else could have left the jacket in her office. Rey had wanted to believe that Ben from the note was Ben Solo, that the jacket’s scent was his.

But there were at least 20 ‘Ben’ in the Office. There was no guarantee that "Jacket-Ben” was Ben Solo.

Well, except the fact that she had seen him wearing that jacket.

And he mentioned the scarf in his messages.

Rey was not ready to face the reality of the situation. It was much easier to keep believing that she had not exchanged dirty texts with the Prime Minister.

Sitting down behind her desk, she began to work on her computer.

Soon, every thought about jacket or scent were long gone: for the love of God, she could not find one single good flower shop.

Rey was cooped up in her office for most of the day, calling every florist in London. Thomas, and later Helen, dropped by to try and convince her to come to eat lunch, with no success.

Finally, Mitaka gave her the solution. Rey was sipping her green mint tea in the kitchen during a well-deserve break when it happened.

“So, how’s the prep going?”

Her colleague was leaning on the counter, a cup of coffee in hands. It was a wonder how he could drink coffee this late into the afternoon.

“Not good. Been trying to reduce the flower budget, so I need to find another supplier, but all the shop owners that I call are clowns” she groaned.

“Why don’t you go take a look at the Archives? I know that we were working with another supplier before Snoke."

“Oh? Then why did Snoke change it?”

“Because he only hired people loyal to him. It was his ground rule, even for an external supplier." Mitaka took a sip of coffee and added: "Look what good it did him with Solo."

Rey wetted her lips distractedly. Tons of rumours were going around regarding the betrayal of Ben Solo. Because nobody knew the full details of what had happened, people were speculating.

_If you do not know the details, do not pass judgement about someone._

Rey thanked Mitaka for the Archives idea, and after a quick detour to retrieve the key from the reception, she went to the basement.

The place was huge. Dozens of lined up shelves holding few decades’ worth of filing cabinets, binders and boxes. The lack of windows and the neon lights were giving a weird vibe to the place.

Rey closed the door behind her and moved among the shelves. It was smelling like paper and dust; the latter made her sneezed a few times.

It took her a few minutes to understand the filing system. While she was exploring, she noticed that there were chairs and desks scattered here and there. At least someone had made an effort to make this place work-friendly.

Once she understood that the archives were organized by Prime Minister period, she began to search for Hugh Grant section. The Prime Minister before Snoke.

During her hunt, she crossed paths with two other Office members. The lower ground floor was not completely devoid of life after all.

When she found the right section, she realized she was both lucky and unlucky: the area had a desk nearby but was also poorly lit. One of the light bulbs had probably gone off. Additionally, it was significantly colder in the basement than in the upper levels: the jacket and the scarf were not enough to compensate for the short skirt she was wearing.

Cursing her lack of foresight, Rey began to investigate the shelf in front of her.

The low and middle parts were used to store Office internal documents from that time: Rules of Procedures, invoices, HR communications. After another 5min check, Rey also realized with a sigh that the top part didn’t include any info about Office events organization.

Somewhere between the dozens of shelves, footsteps drew neared.

Rey raised her head and glanced to the boxes placed on the top of the shelf. There were at least four cartons stacked, and Rey read “Halloween and Christmas Balls 2006” on the bottom one. If she stood on her tiptoes, she might be able to reach it.

Rey rolled up her sleeves and tiptoed to try to grab it. She was able to slightly pull it when she realized her mistake: the boxes above were shaking.

It soon became apparent that she wasn’t tall enough: she could barely reach the cardboard box. Rey began to tremble with the effort of keeping her position. The whole stack was about to come crashing on the ground.

Just when the stack began to tumble down, Rey was suddenly pushed against the shelf. A hard body held her against the furniture, and from below, she saw that two huge hands were now preventing the top boxes from falling.

Rey let out a sigh of relief. No doubt that the boxes would have fallen right into her face. She was still stuck in her previous position, with her hands up high keeping the bottom box in place. But now, someone was glued to her.

A huge man.

And a very tall one on top of that: the back of her head was pushed between two hard pectoral muscles. She had never felt so small that at this very moment. Completely engulfed in someone else’s body.

The hard muscles against her head kept her from turning back. Trying to assess the situation, she was able to see that the man was struggling a little bit to keep the box in place: his arms were still pushing towards the shelf, and so was his body.

Rey let out a small whine, but this time the sound was weak. The man seemed out of breath like he had just finished running a marathon. All the places where their bodies were connected were burning.

His skin was hot, and Rey could hear a loud beating under the chest stuck to her head.

“So, where did you go?”

Wait…

This question…

She had heard this question before.

“Mister Solo?” Rey asked hesitantly.

_Wasn’t he supposed to be in Glasgow?_

_How the hell did he manage to be back in London so quickly?_

She felt more than she saw his nod: with the motion, his chin grazed the top of her head. But she didn't need the confirmation. The stunning sandalwood scent all around her was enough.

The same scent as the one on the scarf. And the jacket.

"I just needed to pick a few documents," Rey whispered, but it was loud in the silence of the room. “Are the boxes stable enough?”

He purposefully ignored her question. “I’ve been looking for you." The Prime Minister's colossal body was still trapping hers against the shelf. His massive arms were stretched and strained, the boxes still on the verge of falling.

“I went back the day after, but you were gone. I asked your colleagues about you, but they didn't know.” Rey had never been physically closer to someone else before. His luscious black hair was grazing her forehead. She could feel every hard edge of his body touching her back. As well as something else. “I also went back the next day. The following weekend. Then the weekend after. And every month after that.” Rey was glad to be held against the shelf: she would have crumbled under the surge of pure desire. She no longer knew if the lust was coming from him or herself. Poking the middle of her back, his jean-clad cock felt huge and stiff. With their proximity, it was impossible for Rey not to feel how hard he was. It was a massive turn-on, and Rey’s knickers were wetter by the minute. “You never came back”. The last words bore a plaintive tone, one that Rey was not accustomed to hearing in this voice.

Her posture, standing on her tiptoes, with her hands raised and her breast crushed against the shelf was far from ideal. But all of those inconveniences were worth it. In fact, she could no longer notice them.

She compelled herself not to move: they were so close to each other, one movement, and he would be able to hear the squelching sound coming from her panties. The Prime Minister had no such concerns and pushed against her while trying to adjust his grip on the boxes.

Rey could only moan when she felt his hard cock rubbing on her.

The Prime Minister froze for a few seconds, then lowered his head. He inhaled deeply against her scalp. Rey closed her eyes and swallowed the moan that wanted to escape her lips.

“You smell very good. Even better than I imagined.”

Another thrust of his bulge against her back.

“And you’re wearing my scarf. My jacket”

Another thrust.

“I’m gonna pass a bill to have you wear my clothes and my clothes only."

Another thrust.

“So anyone can see who you belong to.”

Rey's ears were ringing loudly; she could no longer make sense of what he was saying. Only the lust mattered, making her arch her back, coating her skin with a fine layer of sweat.

Lost in the sensations, she hadn’t realized that his hands had been pushing the boxes back into place before it was too late: her hands were still stuck on her own box whereas his were now free. One of them gripped her hip, and the other one kept moving down until it reached her bare thigh.

His burning fingers on her inner thigh.

His scent, his hands and the hard bulge pressing on her were maddening. Rey was unable to form any coherent thought. Her cunt was producing _so much wetness._ One upward movement of his hand on her thigh and he would feel it.

It was shameful.

The idea made Rey squirm, and his grip tightened.

When he spoke again, his voice was like gravel. “Did you touch yourself while wearing my jacket?”

The shame grew tenfold, and Rey shook her head.

Her reply made his hold on her hip almost painful. “I think you’re lying, and I know how to prove it.” he said, his voice low in her hear.

His hand moved higher on her inner thigh in a slow caress. Then a little higher. Until…”Oh my good girl” he spoke with a broken voice. His fingertips glided on her skin with the help of her slick. “You’re giving me so much”.

His hips were thrusting back and forth against her.

_He knows I’m wet, he knows._

“I need..” His words were lost during a powerful thrust against her. "I need to see". And to Rey's horror, he pushed back her box, grabbed her hips and lifted her off the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mighty smut is coming !


	8. Chapter 8

Rey gasped when his hands held her hips and lifted her off her feet. He did so with absolutely no effort. She was as light as a feather, such a small thing compared to his massive frame. When he carried her to the desk near the shelf, it was not him but Rey who was out of breath.

He set her down on the hardwood, stomach first. Rey was now bent over the desk, a burning hot hand pressing her back. The desk was high; her feet were not even touching the ground. In another context, the situation would be humiliating: she was in the same position as a naughty child.

It seemed that the same thought was on his mind: “I thought you wanted to be good.” His voice was dark and hungry. ‘But you lied, so I have to check myself now.”

Rey felt his huge frame move behind her; his feet kicked her legs open, and the hand on her back was still restraining her against the desk. The helplessness of her position was both humiliating and arousing, and Rey hid her burning face into her hands.

His free hand began petting her ass above the skirt. One single hand was enough to cover both cheeks; the movement was slow and tortuous.

When he spoke again, he sounded breathless: “I can’t… I can’t believe it, your ass is so bouncy”. Another vicious growl left him when he squeezed her bum. Her skirt's fabric was rough on Rey's sensitive skin, and her ass was beginning to redden.

_The Prime Minister is feeling me up._

He was touching her ass as if he owned it, switching between rough squeezes and tender strokes. His movements were slow, territorial. As if he was trying to learn the curves of her bottom. To convince himself her ass was real.

She was aware on some level that his hard cock was also rubbing on the back of her thigh. But quickly, nothing mattered any more: Ben Solo had grabbed the hem of her skirt and had raised it, exposing Rey's bare ass and knickers. The movements of his hips, his heavy breathing, everything stopped abruptly.

Rey heard him step away: she could almost feel the weight of his stare on her bare ass. The room was completely silent now. The Prime Minister seemed to have stopped breathing altogether.

_He can see my panties._

_He is looking at my pussy._

Completely exposed to his view, Rey was wetter than ever. A small gush of slick spilt over the seam of her light grey panties, and she felt it trickle down her thigh.

“Jesus Christ”, he snarled, grabbing one buttock in each hand and spreading them. “Jesus Christ, Rey, you’re so wet”.

And just like that, the quietness was broken. A low rumble was coming from his chest; his breathing was erratic once again. Except this time, his hands were touching her skin directly, spreading her.

“Do you want to know what I see?” he grunted while rubbing her sensitive skin.

“No” she whispered, speaking for the first time since forever. His words were filthy; her ears were burning with each dirty words leaving his mouth.

Maybe he didn’t hear her reply. Perhaps he just didn’t care. “The biggest, meatier booty I’ve ever see.” His fingertips were moving on the soft skin of her ass cheeks. Squeezing. Caressing. Gentle and mean at the same time. “I want to bury my face in it. May I?”

“No” she moaned. No way. _No way_. Never mind if the idea was so exciting that she began to rub herself on the edge of the desk. _No way_.

“Don’t.lie.” he seethed lowly. His dark hunger was now mixed with anger. Like a dark cloud hovering above them, Rey felt his frustration, his hands now grasping her tightly. “There’s no use to lie. I can see it. The dark spot on your knickers.” The wail of shame that left her mouth only fueled his dark mood. “The dark _wet_ spot. It goes from here” his thumb touched the seam of her panties close to her clit “to there” the same thumb touched the seam near her asshole. The thick thumb was grazing the ridge of her knickers, not touching the skin, carefully avoiding her sensitive clothed parts. “You’re damp _everywhere_ ”.

The Prime Minister was rubbing his hard cock on her thigh again. The knowledge that he was losing control was intoxicating.

"Tell me to stop" His thumb was becoming insistent. One move and it would touch her clothed cunt. "Tell me to stop, Rey." he desperately insisted. His voice was raw like she had never heard before. Purposefully he was touching neither the bare skin nor her fabric above her pussy. Only the stitches.

Unable to talk, let alone think, Rey bent over, offering her ass even more. She was aware on some level that her position was slutty. But she couldn’t care less. Especially when his thumb _finally_ , _finally_ began to rub her panties-clad cunt directly.

The low growl was louder than ever, the thick fingertip beginning a move back and forth over the wet fabric. Starting from the engorged clit all the way to her entrance, where the wetness was gathering. Sometimes straying higher and grazing her asshole. Other times insisting on her sensitive clit.

The knuckles of his other hand were brushing her thigh repeatedly: he was rubbing his erection over his pant. She could almost see it, his huge hand grabbing his bulge to release some tension.

Each movement of his thumb on her cunt was now producing a squelching noise. It seemed so loud in the silence of the basement.

“Now, that’s a good girl.” He sighed peacefully. “Can you hear that?”

His thumb insisted on her entrance, and the wet noise increased, the fabric of her panties vacuuming the wetness coming from her cunt.

“Such a lovely sound.”

Squelch. Squelch.

“I wish I could record it. Listen to it every night.”

Squelch.

“My own lullaby.”

Rey was completely spread over the desk, her chest, her face stuck on the hard surface. The lower part of her body was no longer hers; every nerve belonged to him, to his touch. Somewhere, someone was sobbing, but Rey’s mind was floating too high to care.

His thumb was pressing the fabric over her entrance, her slick helping. Few millimetres of soaked fabric were pushed inside her before Rey spoke. “I’ve… I’ve never… I’m…” she stuttered.

He seemed to understand immediately, and the movement of his hand on his cock hastened: the Prime Minister was now furiously rubbing his jean-clad cock. “My good girl” he sighed blissfully.

His thumb was no longer pushing on her entrance. Instead, two thick fingers were now gliding over the damp fabric with skilful moves, stimulating every part of her cunt. Rey wailed, moving her ass at the same rhythm as his fingers.

She was close now. The mere thought that it was _his_ fingers was almost enough to make her come. The mighty Ben Solo. The ruthless Viking Prime Minister Ben Solo. Rubbing her wet panties and touching himself. Vulnerable. 

“Are you close sweetheart? You’ve been good. So good. Just like I knew you would be” he panted. And yes she was, oh, so close. His huge body was hovering behind her; his scent was everywhere. One of his fingers was now circling her clit while the other one was rubbing her entrance. “You need this, don’t you? Your pussy loves it.” The wet noises were loud enough to keep Rey from lying. “So good! You’re so good, Rey!” His fingers were almost vibrating against her cunt, and Rey was begging, she knew she was, and she didn’t care.

“You want a bit more, don't you? Just a little bit more." His voice was broken, and yes, Rey would take a bit more, she would take everything. Everything Ben Solo could give her. Her hands were now sliding in the sweat on the desk, struggling to find purchase, to push back against his fingers. “There, that’s what you want. What you need.” And his fingers slid under her panties, touching for the first time her bare pussy. As soon as his fingertips brushed her wet skin, Rey began to spasm violently. “So good. You’re so good, sweetheart. Want you wanted.”

Rey came so hard her knees buckled, and she sobbed his name. Her pussy clenched violently, the feeling of emptiness taking over. In the midst of her high, she was barely aware that his fingertips were still caressing her wet folds, that her name was being roared repeatedly.

The world around her just vanished. Only the feeling of fullness remained.

It was the most powerful climax of her life; she could no longer feel her own body.

It took her at least five minutes to recover from the climax. Completely stretched on the desk, she slowly came back to her senses.

One by one, external sensations returned: her ass exposed to the cold air, the wetness dripping on her legs, and a burning hand caressing her back.

The last one gave her an electric shock.

God, she had just come all over the Prime Minister’s fingers.

God, fucking God, and all the Saints.

Completely frozen, she felt his huge hand stroking her back delicately while his breathing was getting back to normal. For a few minutes, he didn’t say anything. Just touching her.

Finally, his deep voice echoed in the room: “You’re coming home with me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a command.

A command.

Shit.

He was her boss.

The notion stroke Rey like lightning: instantly, she pushed on her arms and got on her feet. Not letting him even one second to react, she slurred a small “I’m sorry” before running. Without a care about her appearance, she was just running away from the place as fast as she could.

Without stopping, she rushed to her office, grabbed her bag, and exit the building. She took her heels and ran to the tub station, not wanting to stop, even for one second.

Stopping meant thinking about what had happened.

In a feverish state, she found a free spot in her wagon and sat down. From her bag, she could her phone ringing, but was not physically able to reach for it.

Her head was heavy, and her hands were mechanically rubbing her thighs. The wetness coating the inner skin was now drying. Rey knew she was in shock: it was the first time she’d been intimate with someone. The last time somebody had tried to touch her like that, Rey had fought with all her strength.

Her stop arrived, and Rey left the tub. While she walked towards her flat, the cold hair woke her up. The neighbourhood was busy: a dense crowd was leaving the Waitrose around the corner, and Rey used the pedestrian crossing to avoid being crushed.

A horn competition began between a bus and a cab. The familiar city sounds were grounding Rey, and the proximity of her flat was reassuring.

With a few deep breaths, Rey progressively managed to calm down. She had allowed him to touch her. She had enjoyed it very, very much.

She had loved it, every single minute.

**********************************************************************************

Two days later, Rey was in her office, pulling her sports bag from under her desk. The day before, Helen had mentioned a weekly free yoga class within the office. With the prospect of her mentor attending and considering the accumulated tension in her body, Rey was dying to attend.

The night after their encounter, she had received a single text message from Ben Solo. The message was relatively short: "Rey…please."

Rey had no idea what to reply. No idea what he wanted.

She had just managed to heal from her painful past and her issues with intimacy. And now, she was aroused 24/7 when Ben Solo was around. Something was wrong with her.

So she didn’t reply.

The following day, she didn’t answer his new message either.

This one was only saying: “Talk to me”.

Every time she began to write down a reply, Rey was overwhelmed by the memory of the Archives. She remembered everything with acute precision: her wails, his burning fingertips on her skin, the squelching noises exposing her arousal. He’d seen all her sins, her lust dripping from her pussy, her ass stretched upwards. 

She was ashamed of her behaviour during that evening and needed to find peace. Hence the yoga.

Rey took her bag and went to the locker room on the fifth floor. Several conference rooms were on this floor as well as a communal area. The latter one was used for many informal events such as potluck, movies evening and sports gatherings. Indeed, it was the only space big enough to accommodate large crowds.

The place would be perfect for hosting the Ball's repetitions.

Once she was changed, Rey left the locker room and went to the communal space. She was wearing black legging and a black sports bra, without any shoes on. She much preferred to wear socks while doing yoga.

The space was huge: the windows ran almost floor to ceiling, giving the room an ethereal light. This floor was quieter than the rest of the building, which was perfect for the yoga practice. Only the occasional noises from an adjacent conference room were disrupting the silence.

The yoga mats were already in place: Rey quickly recognized Helen near the room entrance and saw that her mentor had saved her a mat. Unfortunately, the spot was fully visible from the rest of the floor but beggars can't be choosers: her mat was the only one still available.

Lesson learned, she would arrive earlier next time.

Shortly after, the class began, and Rey was focused on the teacher. Her last yoga class had been ages ago, and she was somewhat rusty. Her plank was correct; her abdominals were one of her strength. The tree pose was also going smoothly, and it gave Rey time to assess the other yogis. The level was high; most of the participants were going effortlessly from one pose to the other.

When the downward-facing dog arrived, Rey heard her back cracked. Damn, she was already struggling. And she was hot too.

She had the fabulous idea to wear her hair loose this morning, and the back of her neck was heating up.

Rey heard some noises behind her, but her teacher was already moving on to the next pose: the extended puppy. Testing her flexibility, Rey got in position: her chin resting on the mat with her arms extended out in front, pressing downward for a deeper stretch. The voices outside of the classroom finally stopped, allowing Rey to reach the pose calmly. Her hips were now at a 90-degree angle to the knees and pulling back toward the heels.

The pressure was killing her back, but Rey knew it was the right kind of pain.

However, the noises were back now; Rey’s peace was broken entirely when she realized that voices were arguing not far behind her. She was just about to break her position when the yoga teacher spoke: “Gentlemen, please stop disturbing my class.”

The rebuke worked, the voices arguing in whispers now. Rey was able to go back to her yoga headspace, and the rest of the class was serene.

After the stretching exercises, the class was dismissed, and Rey began to gather her things. She was about to go to the locker room before Helen stopped her.

“Rey, I just received a text, you need to go into the conference room A26.”

Rey frowned and bit her lower kip. “Is it an emergency? I’m still wearing my sportswear.”

"I have no idea if it's urgent, but the memo said as soon as possible. It's the second room near the stairs."

Rey was not thrilled by the idea of walking around the floor while wearing her legging and her bra. But she was not going to disregard a request from Helen. She nodded and began to look for the room A26. A few minutes later, she finally found it. It was one of the smallest conference room, barely big enough to accommodate two people. Like every room, an adhesive film was glued to the glass walls, making it impossible to see the inside.

Curious, Rey knocked on the door. After a few seconds without any answer, she pushed the door with a small “Hello?”, before stopping immediately once she saw who was in the room.

Leaning against the opposite wall to the door, the Prime Minister was standing in all its glory. Once again dressed in black from head to toe, his hands in his pocket. Even his position couldn’t hide his gigantic size: the room was so tiny with him inside.

Their eyes met, and Rey gulped. Her hand was still on the door, and the idea to make a run for it was appealing. But he was her boss, and Rey didn’t want to test the limits of his patience.

Slowly, she turned and closed the door.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest.

Rey took a few quavering breaths and, suddenly, all his words from their previous encounters came back.

He had looked for her.

He had called her his good girl.

His fingers had touched her _intimately_.

Steadying herself, Rey finally turned back and immediately stepped back into the door with a quick movement: the Prime Minister was much closer to her, he had drawn near without making a sound. The sudden proximity triggered some buried fears in Rey. She was breathing heavily; her body had placed itself into a defensive stance.

Dozens of emotions crossed Ben Solo’s face, and the man stepped back, giving Rey some space. Finally, it was the worry that won, and Rey slightly relaxed when she saw that he was now giving her a pleading look.

"Can… can we talk?" he whispered as if he was afraid to scare her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good sunday !! I hope you enjoyed the smut ! Except for a few chapter here and there, this story is about to get hot !


	9. Chapter 9

Rey was much calmer now. Well, as calm as she could be face to face with the Prime Minister.

Despite his massive frame, it was almost as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. Less threatening: he had the palms of his hands turned upward, and his eyes were begging her. For what? Rey didn’t know.

“…Yes, of course.” Rey replied. Biting her lower lip, she rested her back on the door.

Ben Solo nodded, his broad shoulders sagging in relief. "Do you… do you want to drink something? To eat?" He asked with a hesitant voice. Once again, Rey was struck with the difference between this Ben Solo and the one on the telly: the one standing in front of her only had the outward appearance of the ruthless politician. Everything else, his facial expression, his stance, his eyes, and his tone of voice were very different from his usual self.

“No, thank you, I’ll… I’ll go eat something before going back to work.”

He cast a quick glance towards something on his left then reached down to the nearest chair to sit.

Rey imitated him before checking what he was looking at: a cloth bag on the chair next to him. What looked like sandwich wraps and soda bottles were standing out from the bag. Rey could even see pre-cut fruits.

He had bought enough for them to have lunch together.

And she had just refused.

Before she was able to change her answer, he spoke. “Did you get home okay the other night?” His voice was calm, and he was looking gently at Rey.

Remembering what happened on that evening resulted in a massive blush on her cheeks, but she replied nonetheless. “Yes, thank you.” If he noticed her red face, he had the courtesy not comment on it.

Then, remembering who she was talking to, she added “…Sir.”

His eyes visibly darken, and Rey saw him extend his arm on the desk. His hand drew nearer. Then stopped.

For the time being.

"I will not apologize," he said roughly, and Rey moved her eyes back to his face. “Apologizing would mean that I regret it and I don’t.”

The determination was evident in his eyes, and at that moment, Rey had a glimpse of Ben Solo-the politician.

“The only thing that I wish I would have done differently is the method.”

He stopped talking and looked at Rey intently. Trying to gauge her reaction.

The younger girl was flabbergasted: her best guess had been that the other night was a moment of madness. She had been waiting for him to say he was sorry about what happened. To ask her to forget.

But instead, she got this.

While she tried to wrap her mind around his words, she could see something dark, but warm, simmering in his eyes. He was waiting for her, like a leopard watching its prey. Scanning her reaction, observing her.

"I'm sorry, there are many things that I don't understand" she began, not even sure about her train of thoughts. “What do you want from me? Why did you touch me? I know that you remember me from Starbucks, is it going to be an issue that I worked there?” In for a penny, in for a pound, and Rey continued with her questioning: “Did you leave your jacket in my office on purpose? Were you the Ben from the messages?” After a quick break, she finally asked the final question that burdened her the most. “Won’t be in trouble if someone knows?”

Calmly, he waited for her to finish her round of questions. Once it was clear that Rey was done, she saw him spreading his fingers on the desk, his thumb caressing the wood.

Then his deep voice filled the silence of the room.

“I will give you my answers, but not in the same order. Would it be okay with you?" After a quick nod from Rey, he resumed. "Yes, I do know that you worked in Starbucks. No, it is not an issue. Do you remember the second time we met?”

Rey nodded again: how could she have forgotten this giant of a man? Her coworkers were always gossiping about him. When he returned after their first meeting, she was still delighted to see him.

“Then you remember that I didn’t even have to give you my order, you memorized it perfectly. You must also remember that after the first time, you always kept my favourite muffins aside." Rey immediately blushed as she heard his words. He wasn’t supposed to have noticed that.

“Every time I came by, you always, always had them aside. Hiding them carefully and taking them out for me. Do you know this was the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me?” It was a rhetorical question, of course, she didn’t know. His hand resting on the desk reached out and grabbed hers gently.

The warm of his skin instantly made her lose the capacity to think.

“I’ve already told you that I came back. I wanted to talk to you. And so much more. But you just disappeared.” His grip on her hand tightened slightly. Every time the topic of her departure from Cambridge was mentioned, he seemed deeply frustrated.

Rey intertwined their fingers, and he relaxed a bit. The sheer difference between their fingers' size and width was ludicrous: her hand was covered entirely by his. She could have laughed at it if she wasn’t completely turned on. The contact was so, so intimate. His touch was tender, and when the Prime Minister spoke again, his voice was an octave lower.

“So yes, I do know you worked there. But I don’t know where you went. Yes, I left my jacket on purpose, hoping you would wear it. Didn’t want you to wear someone’s clothes.” He scoffed to the idea, but the grip on her hand was pretty clear. She wouldn’t be able to withdraw it if she wanted to.

“Yes, I sent you the messages. I want us to talk about _everything_.”

The stillness of the room was making every word coming from his mouth loud. Rey was feeling light, disconnected from the real world. Absentmindedly, she felt his thumb caress the skin of her hand, moving slowly across her wrist. Outside, people were walking into the adjacent rooms with heavy steps; the noises were muffled by the walls, making it easier for Rey to hear the sounds of her own breathing.

The Prime Minister was still seated in his chair, his frame too big for the piece of furniture. He was leaning forward, his beefy arm extended over the desk.

The external world had melted into the background, present at the edge of her mind but not a focus. Her field of vision, her consciousness had shrunk to his dark eyes, luring her in.

When he spoke again, she could almost _feel_ his gravelly voice in her bones.

“You want to know what I want.” Even in her dream-like state, Rey could feel his touch on her hand becoming sensual. A promise of more intimate caresses. “Everything. I want everything from you.”

He had moved closer, Rey dreamily thought, because his heat was near now, and he was able to bring her hand to his mouth. The warmth of his breath was heating her slender fingers.

“I want to see you every day. To hear you laugh. To listen to your rants. To know where you went after Cambridge. To forbid you from wearing those obscene legging."

When he softly bit the tender skin of her hand, Rey closed her eyes. The onslaught of sensations was intense, heightened by her skin's sensitivity: she could feel every one of his teeth. Nibbling the mellow part of the outer side of her palm.

“I want you to give me your firsts. Willingly. I want to use you because I know you'll love it.” He slipped her ring finger in his scorching hot mouth and _sucked_. “I want you to warm my heart, my bed and my cock.”

There was absolutely no way the Prime Minister wasn’t aware of the effects his touches and words had on Rey; her head was sloping from side to side, her breaths were short and erratic. Behind her close eyes, she could visualize how they looked like: this mountain of a man leaning on her and swallowing up her finger. The sounds of people just outside the room were increasing the situation's shamelessness: anybody could come in and interrupt them. Could stumble upon the Prime Minister sucking her fingers greedily.

“If you want me to stop chasing you, you need to say it. Say it now. Because once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re mine.”

God almighty, he hadn’t started yet. His raspy voice, the way he was tonguing her fingertip, the heat of his body nearby, that wasn’t even the chase?

As if he wanted Rey to have full possession of her faculties, he popped her fingertip out of his mouth and freed her hand. He was no longer touching her, but his colossal frame was still very much crowding her.

Without the skin-to-skin contact, Rey’s mind cleared up a little. She was now aware that her whole body was burning up, that the black fabric of her legging was soaking up her wetness. She prayed silently that he was not able to see it, to smell it. When she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her inner thighs, she knew it was too late.

His gaze was flying from her legging to her breast before finally settling on her face.

"You need to say it because if you don't, you will not be allowed to wear this legging again. Do you know how many of my associates I had to threaten earlier? When you were displaying your ass for everyone to see?” Even without any part of their bodies touching, Rey could _feel_ him. Shaking with contained wrath. Jaws tight. Eyes darker than ever.

“Trust me; you don't want to know what they were saying. Bastards were lucky to get away with a lay-off." His upper body moved closer to Rey, and they were so close now. Rey was unable to smell anything else besides his intoxicating scent. Even his minty breath was mixing in the air between them.

“Rey, I’m going to ask you again: do you want me to stop?” he asked again with a powerful voice.

Knowing that their closeness affected her ability to think, Rey stood up and took a few steps towards the door. Despite everything he had shared with her, only one thought was on her mind. She waited until she was near the entrance to look back at him. The look on his face had shifted from hungry to defeated.

“You are the Prime Minister. You know we shouldn’t get close. What if someone finds out?”

Now that she was near the exit, Rey could hear the voices outside. It was very likely that people were going to enter the room any minute. But she couldn't leave. Not when his voice had risen again. "The amount of fucks I give to my reputation is tragically low. I don’t care if someone finds out. I can go to the lobby and tell everyone right now." And with the deep scowl on his face, Rey believed him. "But I know you might not think the same. I understand, and you can tell me to fuck off."

Really, his tendency to swear was surprising for a public personality.

And once again, he was giving Rey a way out. Waiting for her to refuse.

A thing that wasn’t humanely possible for Rey.

She spoke fast, afraid to chicken out: “You can send me text messages, I’ll reply.” Then she quickly opened the door and left the room.

He had her at the bag full of food.

*******************************************************

During the rest of the week, Rey was able to focus again on her work. She went back to the Archives and used a stepladder _this time_. After a quick search, she was able to find the contact of the previous flower shop, and after a quick call, they were thrilled to work with the Cabinet Office again.

On Thursday, she even went with Poe and Finn to the movies during the evening. It made her realize how little she went out, and when she did, it was always with the same two people. Not that she wanted to complain, Poe and Finn were hilarious when trying to imitate the Wes Anderson movie characters.

Her lack of social activities was highlighted in the text messages she exchanged with Ben Solo. Right after their encounter, he had started to send messages to check on her. Small texts in the morning and during the day, such as “Good morning” or “How are you?” but always, always followed by a sweet nickname. He had called her “love”, or “sweetheart”, making Rey giddy first thing in the morning.

She usually just shared with him the boring truth: she was either at work, or home, or commuting between work and home. She had told him about her roommates Poe and Finn, about her previous internships experiences and daily meetings. He never seemed bored in his text messages: even when she was explaining to him what pasta dish she was preparing, he was asking her questions.

Even if she didn't run into him in the Office, his text messages and eagerness were strong signals for Rey. She felt like he cared. Especially when he was checking on her even during important meetings.

It almost felt like she had a dedicated space in his mind. 

Rey also asked him some questions occasionally: his daily life full of meetings, political sessions and press statements was utterly foreign to her. His willingness to share a glimpse of his life was the ultimate sign of trust for Rey. Dozens of his political opponents would kill to have the information he shared with her. Of course, he didn’t reveal any specific confidential information, but even his comment on a mundane topic was gold to the political circle.

In the evening, he had asked her some personal questions: what did she want to do later, how she was feeling right now. She tried her best to answer but had a hard time opening up to others. On Thursday night, she was just coming back from the movies when she received his text.

"Good evening, sweetheart. I hope you enjoyed the movie. I know I am too pushy, but could tell me where you went after Cambridge? Why did you move?”

She had no idea how to respond to that: she hadn’t even told him about her past yet.

Even Finn didn’t know what exactly had happened during her last night in Cambridge.

Sitting on her bed, she weighed the pros and cons of sharing more details about her past. Finally, she settled on a small portion of the truth: "I grew up in the foster care system. Something happened in my last foster family and I just, I couldn’t stay. So I moved to London.”

He didn’t reply for 5 minutes, which was highly unusual for him despite his busy schedule.

Then, just as she was putting on her pyjamas, she heard her phone ring.

He was calling her.

A feverish anxiety seized her: a phone call was much more intimate than text messages. She would hear his deep voice.

Quickly, she jumped under the covers and swiped her finger across the screen. A few seconds later, his voice slipped into her ears: “Hello Rey. Can you talk, or is this a bad time?”

God, his voice was even lower than she remembered. It was soothing and stimulating at the same time. No wonder he had been elected with a voice like that: a few words and Rey was ready to give him everything. Including her vote.

“No, yes, I mean I can talk.”

Her answer was followed by a few seconds of silence. Almost as if he was savouring her voice as she had savoured his.

“I wanted to apologize for being intrusive. This kind of discussion shouldn’t be done through text messages.” He stopped for a few seconds, and Rey could hear orders being thrown in the background. It sounded like he was inside some sorts of military installation. “I hope you know you can tell me anything. I want you to trust me.”

Rey clenched her free fist around her fuzzy cover. She felt far from ready to speak about her time at Plutt’s house. But she didn’t want him to feel rejected either.

“Thank you. I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind. It’s not easy.”

“I know.”

And Rey didn’t want to cry just because he was understanding.

She definitively didn’t.

Almost as if he was feeling her emotion, he didn’t speak afterwards. The noises behind him were loud; he was definitively outdoors because Rey could hear helicopter’s blades somewhere in the distance.

But despite the hectic bustle around, it was apparent that she had his full attention: she could almost hear his breathing, she knew he was waiting.

Not necessarily for her to speak about her past, but for anything she was willing to share.

Finally, he spoke: "Would be available next-", and before she was able to hear the rest of his sentence, Finn banged her door open, while simultaneously singing Celine Dion's 'My heart will go on'.

“Jeez Finn, don’t you know how to knock?” she grumbled. Then speaking near her phone “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, my roommate barged into my room.” Her hairbrush was now in Finn’s hand and had transformed into a microphone.

“No, that’s fine, I’ve got to go. Sweet dreams, Rey.”

“You too, have a good night.” Rey hung up just as Finn was moving to ‘Taking chances’. It took two verses and one chorus for her to join him on her bed finally.

Poe had discreetly entered the room and was now filming the duo on his phone. When the sentence “What do you say to jumpin' off the edge?” arrived, Finn and Rey jumped from her bed in a smooth routine.

Short of breath and happy, Rey couldn’t even remember why she was upset with Finn.

***********************************************

The next day, Rey was hard at work in her office. It was almost the weekend, and she had received her daily dose of Ben Solo through a sweet text message.

It was around 3:00 PM that her phone chimed again. Rey grabbed it and saw that it was another text from the Prime Minister. "Rey, I'm going to ask you for a favour. But I want you to say no if you don't want to do it. Can you do that, darling?"

Immediately, Rey was 100% focused on her phone. He didn’t seem like the type of person to ask for favours lightly.

“Yes, I can.” she texted back, her fingers shaking slightly.

The three small dots popped up once, then disappeared. They came back a few seconds later.

Whatever the favour was, it seemed like it was difficult to ask.

Finally, the message appeared.

“I want you to give me your panties.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked sweet Ben Solo. I love him *sigh*


	10. Chapter 10

Did she read that correctly?

Somewhat doubting her reading abilities, Rey rechecked the message.

And yes, he was saying that he wanted her panties.

Flushing from head to toes, Rey checked her office door quickly to make sure nobody was coming. The words were still there, in the same order as before, when she checked her phone a third time.

Another message popped up on her screen.

“You’re going to take off your cute little knickers and fold it neatly. Hide it behind the broken water fountain on the third floor.”

The words were dancing before her eyes. It was without any doubt the single dirtiest thing anyone had ever asked her to do.

She was instantly turned on. Under her skirt, the white cotton panties that she had slipped into this morning was getting wet. It seemed almost too dirty to imagine: the fabric rubbing against her cunt delivered to him. He would be able to smell her.

Rey’s cheeks were burning now. After another check, she slipped her hand under her skirt. Touching herself above the said panties.

Her phone chimed again: “I want to play with it this weekend.”

Goddamnit, the man was good. His words were enough to increase her arousal tenfold. Her pussy was sensitive; she hadn't had any relief since the evening at the Archives.

Still, she needed to confirm something. “But what if my panties is wet? Do you still want it?”

His answer took approximatively two seconds to arrive. “Third floor. Now.”

Even his commanding tone was turning her on.

Rey gave herself a few minutes of pleasure before moving: eyes closed, cold fingers moving in a circle above her cunt, her mind was replaying every encounter she had with him.

In the conference room, his lips on her hand, a warm and wet touch grazing her skin. She remembered every one of his breath and the all-consuming need to have his mouth somewhere else on her body. His words, sweet and dark, luring her right into him, into his game of cat and mouse.

His low voice calling her a good girl in the Archives, playing with her covered pussy like it was his very own plaything. She could almost feel them, his large fingers exploring the seams of her underwear, grazing the damp fabric. Persisting fingertips prodding her wet folds, pushing on sweet spots she didn’t even knew she had.

Her fingers had turned into his, and Rey's head was resting on her desk. She knew she had to stop, but her cunt was pulsing, and in the Archives, his voice had been desperate. He had almost sounded needy, a ruthless giant begging her.

He didn’t need to ask; she would give him anything.

In a daze, she moved her hand away and stood up. Her movements were clumsy; her whole body was shaking from the stimulation. She tried to hide from any potential visitors and dragged her underwear down. Luckily, she had an empty plastic pouch in her bag; she slipped her folded panties inside it.

The round trip to the water fountain was surprisingly quick despite her wooziness; five minutes later, she was once again behind her desk. The likelihood of someone else finding her knickers was high. But it made the game even hotter.

She didn’t send him another message during the rest of the afternoon, not even to inform him about the panties waiting for him. When she stopped by the third floor before going home, they were no longer there.

***************************************

The Bachelor was playing on telly that night: the roommates’ weekly ritual consisted of a Friday evening full of popcorn and bitching.

Rey was currently spread on the couch, her leg resting on Finn's knees. Her best friend was himself in Poe's arms, on the other side of the sofa. A snarky comment was occasionally covering the sound of the telly.

Rey's hand was repeatedly diving into the popcorn bucket.

When Tanya was about to accept the rose from James, Rey’s phone chimed.

Moving her eyes away from the telly, Rey grabbed her phone with her sticky hands and almost dropped it immediately. The message was short: "Thank you, Rey. Your juice is delicious.”

Only the knowledge that Poe and Finn were in the same room was preventing Rey from moaning. It was evident that the man wanted to kill her.

Her phone chimed once more.

“You have no idea how good you taste. My mouth can’t let go of your knickers.”

Okay, time to put the phone down. Rey was getting wet yet again, and she did not want to be excited in the middle of her living room.

The man was a demon.

*******************************************

Luckily, he didn’t send her another text that evening.

His hands were probably too busy to bother using the phone.

His next message arrived on Sunday night. Outside of his sweet morning messages, he hadn’t reached out during the weekend, and Rey was almost grateful. Her sexual frustration was already high enough, thank you very much.

When her phone chimed, she was already in her bed, reading a book about American politics. She put down her book and reach for her phone.

“I hope you had a good weekend. I thought a lot about you.”

His words warmed Rey to the core. Their conversations were a strange mix of teasing and comfort. She liked it.

“Yes, thank you. I wish we could meet” she texted back.

“We will. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t making you uncomfortable first. Despite my behaviour, I am aware that you are much younger. I don't want to force you into anything."

“You aren’t. I want us to get closer." Then, after a few seconds, she mustered up her courage and added “I might not have a lot of experience, but I like it. What you say. What you do.”

His reply was immediate. “I’m glad you do. Because it’s becoming harder and harder for me to stay away”.

With her phone in one hand, Rey was lazily caressing her chest with her other hand. She had locked her door beforehand and was now laying on her bed like a cat in the sun. Fingertips grazing the soft skin of her neck, her chest, her stomach.

The heat coiling in her cunt was making her brave. “What are you wearing right now?”

His reply took a few minutes to arrive, and Rey was afraid she had overstepped.

But once his first answer arrived, the messages didn’t stop.

“I’m sitting on my couch right now, in the middle of the living room. Completely naked.”

“I wanted so badly to write to you. To tell you how much you please me.”

“You’re such a good girl, giving me your wet knickers, giving me something to drink.”

“I licked it clean, but I’m still thirsty. Would you share more?”

Two fingers stuffing her pussy, Rey was trying to keep up with the flow of his messages. The wet sounds coming from her cunt were filthy.

"Do you want to know where your panties are right now, sweetheart?”

“Answer me, Rey.”

Of course, she wanted to know. “Yes, Sir.”

Instead of a text, Rey received a video a few minutes later. His messages had already brought her to the edge, and she knew; she just knew that the content of the video was going to drive her insane.

And it did.

The 30 seconds-long video was showing his lower body sitting on a couch. His white skin was glowering in the low light, chiselled abs on display. But it wasn’t because of his outrageous body or rough growls that her pussy clenched around her fingers: her panties was wrapped around his massive cock and his huge hand was pumping the whole thing erratically.

The sight of his hand going back and forth around his dick was hypnotic. The whiteness of her panties was heightened by the angry red colour of his skin. His movements were almost animalistic; his hastiness was mirroring Rey's growing orgasm perfectly.

Five seconds before the end of the video, the skin's sounds were briefly concealed by a husky ‘Rey’. On the screen, what seemed like an obscene amount of cum landed on her panties.

Rey came on the spot.

Later, she sent her thank you message and was rewarded with a playful "My pleasure".

She slept like a baby that night.

**********************************************

The next day was a Monday, and despite her fantastic evening and her love for her work, Rey was grumpy.

Grumpy when she left her flat and sipped her Starbucks while taking the tub.

Grumpy when she walked into the Office and greeted her coworkers.

So grumpy when she opened her email inbox and saw that she had 150 emails waiting for her.

Was everybody working during the weekend in this dam place?

An Outlook alert also reminded her that it was her last week without Hux around. Suddenly her mood was even worse. As a way of procrastinating, Rey decided to go and grab another coffee from the kitchen.

Inside the cuisine, she stumbled upon Thomas, looking way too bright for a Monday morning.

“Good morning Rey” he smirked.

Even her grunting 'Morning' wasn't enough to rattle him. While preparing the Nespresso, she felt his hand resting on her lower back. “Someone is not a morning person here, hun?" His tone was light, but the physical contact made her uncomfortable.

She knew it was just a gesture of friendship, but she was not used to being touched.

Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she allowed his fingers to linger before pretending to open the windows and moving away.

"I am a morning person. Once I had my coffee." When she went back to the coffee machine, Thomas was much closer than before. Once again, Rey decided to let it slide. "Also, I keep sending invitations for meetings this afternoon, but nobody is available."

Thomas chuckled behind his cup. “Yes, cause this afternoon is the Monthly Projects meeting. All the members of the Office are attending. You haven't checked your Outlook invitations, right?"

Rey replied with a nod. It did make more sense now.

“Where is the meeting?” she asked Thomas while grabbing her coffee.

“In the large conference room.” Then, seeing the complete lack of spark in her eyes, he added: "I can pick you up at 1:45 PM, and we'll go together." 

Before she even was able to reply, he patted her arm gently and left the kitchen.

Rey’s mood plummeted yet again. She didn’t like one bit when her opinion wasn’t taken into account. Thomas was starting to get comfortable with her.

Truthfully, Rey didn’t have many friends, so she knew she was socially awkward. Being close, trusting other people, friendly touches... many simple interactions were not natural for her.

While she walked back to her desk, Rey couldn’t help but think she had to work on herself to make new friends. Her team members for the Ball were the perfect candidates to open her social circles, but it was _hard_.

After her encounter with Thomas, Rey was able to work for two hours straight, and her mood was much better.

During lunch, Rey received a text from Ben Solo. It was short and to the point: “I gave you your panties back. Wear it this afternoon.”

Quickly, Rey sneaked off to the third floor. She knew where she would find her panties, and sure enough, after a quick check around to make sure she was alone, she retrieved her panties in a small package. Going straight to the bathroom, she locked herself in the first stall she could find and took off her underwear.

When she opened the package, she soon understood the game's new rules: a white sticky substance coated the fabric. The Prime Minister's cum was on her panties, and he had ordered her to wear it.

Another girl could have been disgusted.

Rey was immediately turned on. His light and musky scent reached her nose. It smelled exactly like him, woodsy and heady. The smell she wanted to bask in, to rub on her skin until it became part of her.

Rey needed to close her eyes for a moment, to appreciate the choice offered to her:

  1. Bring it to her nose to fill her lungs with his manly aroma?
  2. Try to taste it instead to finally discover his most intimate taste?
  3. Rub it directly against her bare cunt to make sure every drop of his gift was reaching her tender and sensitive skin?



Greedily, she slipped on the damp panties, and a full-body shiver ran through her when his cum met her cunt. With every movement, the proof of his arousal was spreading on her sensitive skin. Her folds were sticky with his sperm.

When she left the bathroom, she was light-headed: nobody around her knew that the Prime Minister’s cum was filling up her panties.

Rey didn’t even know how she managed to return to her desk. She was very distracted now, unable to work: her cheeks were red, her nipples straining against her white tee shirt. Giving up on trying to work, Rey reached for her phone and sent him a message.

“I’m wearing it now. I can feel you against my pussy.”

A few seconds later, his reply came: “Good girl. Wearing my cum everywhere.”

Trying to be as discreet as possible, Rey slid her hand under her desk and stroked her centre. Legs wide open, she kept her eyes on her phone, her mind revelling on his filthy text. With each of her movement, his cum was spreading more, coating her whole pussy.

_The Prime Minister’s cum is all over me._

Another text popped on her screen: “I want you to take your finger and push it inside. I need to know my cum is in you.”

Desperately trying to stay decent, Rey obeyed and pushed her finger over her panties. The fabric was only letting her go a few millimetres deep, but the sensation of his cum inside was breathtaking. It brushed her inner skin in a squelching noise.

_I want him inside, I want it._

Rey was now sure that she would be able to come like that. Her wetness was mixing with Ben Solo’s cum. If she just rubbed a little more like-

Two loud knocks on her door made Rey jumped in her chair. She barely had time to straighten up and take her hand off her centre before Thomas's head passed through the door.

“Rey? You’re good to go?”

Damn, fucking hell.

With her flushing cheeks, Rey stood from her chair, grabbed her phone and walked out of her office. Her neck was damp; she was frustrated as hell. Deprived of its orgasm, her cunt was clenching around nothing.

Her coworkers must have felt something was wrong; while they were walking, he kept asking her about her heated face and lack of conversation. Although Rey reassured him, he didn’t seem convinced when they arrived on the ground floor, in front of two large doors.

"Rey" Thomas called her, and when she turned toward him, she saw her coworker was closer now. He was towering over her, and she had to twist her neck to look at him.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

Absolutely not, she thought very loudly.

She had no reason to trust him yet.

She was also aware that they were standing in the front of the entrance: people had to step aside to avoid running into them.

Waiting to cut this conversation short, Rey lifted her head: “Yes, Thomas, I would, now can we-“

Her fellow intern shook his head and grabbed her shoulders. "I think you'd rather keep everything to yourself."

His gesture was perhaps friendly. 

But he was getting wayyyy too chummy with her. 

Just as she was about to slap his hands away from her, a deep voice spoke right next to them. “You’re in the way, move.”

She didn’t need to check who had spoken, but she looked anyway. Ben Solo was standing beside them, looming above Thomas. His dark stare was glaring at the intern, and Rey was so grateful not be his target.

Taking advantage of the frozen state of Thomas, Rey swiftly wriggled out of his hands and moved into the conference room. The place was huge, and at least five hundred seats were lined up in front of a stage. Daylight came through a glass roof, bathing the room in natural light. 

A loudly spoken “Wait for me, Rey-bee" made Rey turn around. Thomas caught up with her in a few steps and led her towards two seats at the front. "Those seats are the best, believe me".

Rey would never have chosen those seats in a million years, especially given the current state of her arousal. But she didn’t want to cause a scandal and fight with Thomas, so she let herself be dragged.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see the Prime Minister moving towards the stage, his colossal frame stiff.

As soon as she and Thomas sat down, Rey asked, "What the hell Thomas? What is it with the nickname?” she seethed.

The bastard dared to look surprised when he turned his head toward Rey. "What? It's cute."

Maybe it was Rey's tiny frame, but men were often condescending with her. Thomas, with his pleasant smile and laid-back attitude, was giving Rey major patronizing vibes.

Her feeling was enhanced when a few seconds later, Thomas leaned over her and gave her a side-hug.

It was awkward, to say the least, and luckily, he quickly stopped when a voice rose from the stage.

“Quiet, please, so we can avoid spending the entire afternoon here”. The Prime Minister was standing in front of the room, and he had barked his order. The latecomers hurried into the room, wanting to avoid their boss’s wrath.

The room was completely silent now. Some Office members were moving between the seat rows to hand out the project reports.

During this short time, Rey was doing her best to look everywhere except the stage. Her hands were gripping her thighs; just the idea that she was in the same room as Ben Solo was intimidating.

What did he think about her being here?

Rey felt something tugging her sleeve and looked to see Thomas leaning over her. “Damn, the Prime Minister looks angry. Do you think someone peed in his tea this morning?” He joked, not realizing that it was deadly silent around them.

When Ben Solo’s voice boomed again, it was much closer than before: "Did I stutter?" Rey raised her head right away; the Prime Minister was still standing on the scene, but he was in front of them now.

The elevation enhanced his already overwhelming height, and he looked like an angry god staring at mere mortals.

His dark eyes were fixed on Thomas’s head, and he repeated: “When I asked for silence, did I stutter?”

His powerful voice should not have aroused Rey. But seeing him standing in all his glory, talking down to Thomas, was doing things to her panties.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw her coworker shake his head, probably too embarrassed to speak. Ben Solo saw it and rumbled, "Good".

This specific word from this man sparked something in Rey: she squirmed, hesitating between arousal and fear. The Prime Minister’s stare quickly diverted to her, and if felt like he could read right through her.

A few seconds later, he finally moved away and sat down nearby. “Let’s proceed”, he said while snapping open the top button of his jacket.

She had an exact idea of _what_ they could proceed.

As the meeting started, it was getting harder to focus: only a few meters were separating her from Ben Solo, and her panties were still damp from his cum.

It felt like he could read her thoughts because every once in a while, their eyes were meeting. His stare was cold, moving between her and Thomas before shifting away. Rey could almost see the negative aura hovering above him: his rigid stance and scowl were clear telltales of the Prime Minister's mood.

Every speaker was turned towards him while presenting, forgetting the rest of the audience; the slightest sign of discontent from him had the speakers’ voice trembling and wavering.

Throughout the following hour, Ben Solo never said anything. The only thing he gave was his stare, moving from the speakers to the crowd, then to Rey. Then to Thomas.

Every time their eyes met, an intense electric current hit Rey, reaching every visible piece of skin. Burning her.

Crossing and uncrossing her legs to relieve some of the tension between her thighs, Rey was in her own version of hell.

People on stage were presenting various projects, but she was incapable of concentrating. She was not the only apparently, because the Prime Minister was on his phone, his attention focused on the screen.

Rey's phone vibrated, and when she grabbed it, she saw that it was from Kylo, the nickname on her phone for the Prime Minister. She turned the screen away from her neighbour and discreetly hid her phone with her free hand: no way in hell she would let anyone else see this message.

It was concise: "Who is he?"

When she looked up, his eyes were fixed on the current speaker, who was babbling about the Office’s new waste management project. His lips were forming a thigh line and his eyes were throwing daggers.

Nothing was worse than a pissed Ben Solo.

Quickly, she replied: “Just another intern, part of my team.” She saw him grab his phone. Right away, his scowl deepened.

“Part of your team? Why?”

Why? Because she needed to organize the damn Ball, that’s why.

What a dumbass question.

Instead of escalating the situation, Rey chose to play it cool “Because he asked to join.”

How his phone wasn’t crushed inside his hand was a mystery. His white knuckles were gripping the iPhone, and the speaker stopped his sentence in the middle. The Prime Minister instantly raised his head and glowered at him. “Are you finished? Cause it sure feels like it” he barked.

The poor guy in front of the mic yelped and whispered “No”.

“Well, that’s too bad, cause it’s damn boring” Ben Solo’s voice was menacing. Without even waiting for a reply, he just barked “Next”. The speaker gathered his papers hastily and almost tripped on his way down the stage.

Yes, Rey didn’t want to upset Ben Solo.

It took almost a full hour and two other presentations before their eyes met again. Of course, Rey's gaze had never left: he was so damn attractive. His jacket was stretched under the tension from the powerful muscles lying underneath.

Seeing him giving orders, endorsing fully his role was so, so thrilling.

He was a man of power, and everything in his attitude screamed Alpha.

From time to time, one of his assistants whispered something to him or gave him a piece of paper to sign. He didn’t have a minute of peace, and when he finally looked at Rey, she felt weak under his attention.

His mood had improved; a smug grin was slowly spreading on his lips. Rey had to look away because she didn’t want him to see her red cheeks.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.

It was him. “Are you wearing it?” She raised her head and saw that he was looking at her attentively.

He had put his papers away and was now sitting on his chair, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his thighs: his position was utterly unprofessional, but clearly, he didn’t give a shit.

Feeling playful, she moved her hips and bit her lower lip in a clear invitation. Even with the distance separating them, Rey saw his eyes visibly darken.

The intensity of his stare was too heavy; Rey broke the contact and grabbed her phone: "What do you think?" Her head stayed low; she didn’t want anyone to notice their exchange. Her phone buzzed, and this time his message was imperious: "Good girls answer questions, Rey."

Right away, she replied, “Yes, I’m wearing it. I nearly cum inside my panties earlier…”.

This time, she raised her head, to watch his reaction. When he looked at his phone, a muscle on his jaw popped. She could almost heard his jaw cracking under the pressure.

It was mesmerizing to see in real-time the effect she had on him. His usual standoffish behaviour was slipping away, and Rey heard whispers around her. Clearly, people were starting to notice Ben Solo’s weird behaviour.

She saw him grab his phone, tap a quick message, then putting it away in his jacket's pocket. Looking at her screen, she saw he had sent one last message: "Come to my flat tonight. 7:00 PM, 1st-floor library."

It was not a question.


	11. Chapter 11

When 7 o’clock came, Rey was a complete mess.

She had been aroused all afternoon, completely unable to concentrate on her work. Her failed orgasm had left her sexually frustrated, and the physical proximity with Ben Solo had been torture.

Not being able to touch him when he was so near was agony, and when she finally returned to her office, she had been so distracted that she had bumped into a coworker in the middle of a corridor. Alas, this coworker had been carrying a whole tray of coffee, and it had spilt everywhere on Rey's clothes.

So when 7 o’clock arrived, she was tired, horny and covered in coffee stains.

The idea to meet in the library was peculiar. Whatever the meeting point, they would have to pass through the whole Office.

She pushed the door open, and immediately the smell of old books reached her. Rows and rows of books were standing in the high ceiling room. Every 2 meters, platforms were exhibiting rare books locked behind glass cases.

It was utterly silent; each of her footsteps echoed on the ground, and when Rey moved between the rows, she heard a cracking sound coming from the back. She walked towards the sound and was welcomed by an unexpected sight: the Prime Minister was standing with his back against a wall, and near him, a weird looking door was opened. When she got closer, she realized it was a door disguised as a shelf.

Because of his height, his head was brushing the top of the surroundings shelves.

It was unnerving to be alone with him after the dirty messages that they had shared. Rey was wondering if he would mention them or if he was surprised by her boldness.

“I’m glad you’re here, Rey”. As she drew nearer, she saw his gaze watching her intently. "It's a shortcut leading to my apartment; please go ahead."

And his eyes were so gentle, full of something she didn’t quite understand.

As soon as she crossed the entrance, she felt him behind her closing the door. The corridor was dimly lit, but because he was following her closely, she wasn’t afraid. While walking, she could feel his body heat near. “So it’s a secret passage, like in spy movies?”

She heard him chuckle then reply, "You could say that". And sure enough, a few minutes later, they arrived in front of another door, and the Prime Minister pressed his thumb against a fingerprint sensor. Right away, the door opened, revealing a cosy looking living room behind.

“Welcome to my place”. His huge hand grabbed hers gently and pulled her inside.

This room alone was probably the size of her flat; the wooden floor, the stone fireplace and the mouldings were ancient. Countless former Prime Ministers had inhabited those walls, but the current occupant seemed to do his best to warm up the place. Soft-looking rugs were thrown here and there, the crackling fire was already lit in the chimney, and the couch had more blankets than Rey could count.

She looked to the Prime Minister and saw he was still watching her, waiting for something. A little bit embarrassed to be the centre of his attention, she blushed slightly and gave him a small smile. It seemed to work well enough because his hand stroked her forearm gently.

“Seems like you had an unfortunate meeting with a coffee cup.” His fingers brushed her tee shirt’s fabric. “Do you want to take a shower? I can lend you some clothes.”

Rey nodded, grateful to get rid of the coffee’s smell. With his hand on her back, he slowly guided her towards the right side of the living room.

When he pushed another door, it revealed the fanciest bathroom of Rey's life. Very modern, with dark grey polished concrete on the floor and the walls. The place looked more like a spa than a bathroom.

“I had this room re-design when I arrived. You definitively don’t want to know how it looked with Snoke." Slowly caressing the small of her back, he pointed to a hidden nook in the corner of the bathroom. "You can take a shower there; I'll bring you a towel and clothes."

With a last squeeze on her hips, he turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Rey quickly checked around and saw that the shower space had dark walls, giving her privacy. Despite the weirdness of being inside Ben Solo's apartment, she felt at ease and was looking forward to wearing fresh and clean clothes. She quickly undressed, her clothes slumping on the floor, and walked inside the shower.

It was positively incredible, with a giant rain shower faucet and body wash that smelled like the Prime Minister. Rey was too engrossed in rubbing her skin with his smell; she didn't hear the door opening and the heavy breaths filling the room.

The glide of the luxurious soap on her body was exquisite; it almost felt like he was touching her. Each caress was creating a wet squelch, and when her hand reached her inner thighs, she definitively wanted to touch herself.

Being in his shower, rubbing her skin with his smell was almost too much.

A soft clicking noise interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly rinsed her body.

A few minutes later, she peaked her head inside the bathroom. It was empty, and a fluffy towel was waiting for her on the sink.

Drying herself, she realized her dirty clothes were gone; instead, a soft-looking black sweater and a plaid pyjama bottom were waiting. No underwear, though.

When she put the clothes on, it became apparent that they belonged to the Prime Minister: they were huge, she had to fold the waist five times, and it was still gliding down on her hips. They smelled like him, and Rey wanted never to take them off again.

She opened the bathroom and wobbled inside the living room, with the towel inside her hand still drying her wet hair. She was welcomed by the sight of Ben's massive back, bent down on the island of an open-plan kitchen. His height and width filled the place, and he had to bow to reach the marble countertop. He was cutting onions and celery, and soft music was floating around.

"I feel much better; thank you for the shower."

He turned around, and the look on his face was everything. It made Rey feel like she was wearing a luxury gown and not a pyjama set. His dark eyes were drinking her up. His mouth opened then closed. Then opened and closed again.

She had rendered the politician speechless.

He put down the knife, then dodged the island while walking toward Rey. When he got closer, Rey had to twist her head up to watch his face. He looked entranced. “May I?” he whispered. 

Rey nodded without even knowing what he wanted. He could have everything.

His huge hands slipped on each side of her tiny waist, and his head got closer, brushing the top of her head. His hard body was slowly meeting hers, and she heard him sniffing her hair.

With slow brushes, his hands explored her body, from her waist to her back. He caressed along her spine through methodical strokes, reaching the back of her neck and the soft skin there. His fingers were cold, but his touch was gentle.

His massive palms moved to her face, taking each side of her head between his stretched fingers. With a slow breath, he lowered down his head. Then lowered it down again.

It had to be uncomfortable, the way he was bent. But no protest came out of his mouth, only a steady breath, his forehead against hers.

His unfathomable eyes lost inside hers.

His hands surrounding her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks.

Just watching Rey, keeping her close.

She was the first to turn her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare.

Then his hands lowered down on her back, then down again. A shallow sound was leaving his mouth, and it sounded a lot like ' _Rey-Rey-Rey-Rey’_. Finally, his hands settled on her ass, and he began to knead her buttocks.

His hands were engulfing her covered bottom, squeezing with purpose. Rey's head was now against his chest, where his scent was the strongest. She had never felt so wanted, so cherished: his strokes were meticulous and delicate. He was so big, and she felt so tiny inside his arms.

“I can’t believe you let me touch you.” Once or twice, he stopped his caresses and just cupped her ass inside of his palms, his thumbs moving up and down on the curves. Luckily, Rey's face was hidden against his chest so that he couldn’t see her red cheeks. The heat was spreading from her stomach to her cunt, and she knew she was getting wet.

Finally, he moved away and sighed, "Sorry, I cannot act like a normal human being around you." Just before he turned back, Rey saw that his trousers were tented around the crotch area. He sighed and resumed cutting the vegetables. “Just push me away when I get like that.”

Rey moved to the island and put her elbows on the surface, her eyes still watching him. His shoulders were down in defeat. “I don’t want to push you away, I like it" she stated. "I like it when you touch me." He glanced at her, then kept on cutting vegetables, but his shoulders were straight now.

He was surprisingly easy to understand.

Rey continued to watch him while he was cooking. They spoke about this afternoon meeting, and the atmosphere was strangely peaceful. As if it wasn’t the first time they were sharing these kinds of moments.

Ben was giving her side-glances from time to time, and his expression was heated. “Rey, could you stop bending over the island? I’m burning the onions.” And indeed, there was a burnt smell in the kitchen.

Rey straightened up, her stomach in a twist. Her slightest action had an impact on him; it was weirdly empowering.

Shortly after, his phone rang, and he had to excuse himself to answer. When he came back, Rey was in front of the gas stove, stirring the vegetables. She felt his chest moving right up against her back, his body heat warming her up. “Thank you” he spoke lowly in her ear. Then his hand covered hers on the spatula handle, and Rey’s mind blanked.

Without any underwear on, every spike of arousal was increasing the wetness gliding on her thighs. The light grey bottom was absorbing her arousal, displaying wet spots all over the fabric. Rey was hoping that the Prime Minister wouldn’t look too closely.

His body was moving against hers every time he grabbed a new spice, giving Rey a slight push against the stove. The fabric around her crotch was wet now, undoubtedly. 

After what felt like a decade, he finally moved back. "Dinner's ready. I'll go set up the table."

And Rey was hungry, so hungry, but not for food.

They ate in comfortable silence on the couch. Ben had poured two glasses of white Languedoc, and it went very well with the stirred-fried vegetables. Rey was mellow, the fantastic food and the soft music in the background helping her to relax.

She didn’t miss the territorial looks she was getting from the Prime Minister. She didn’t miss his small displays of affectation either: readjusting the pillow behind her back, pouring her another glass of wine, his hand brushing her knee.

“Did someone ever told you that you’re surprisingly thoughtful for an ice giant?” Rey laughed.

He looked at her with a lopsided grin and put down his glass. "Am I a giant, or are you just tiny?"

“Oy!” Luckily, she was no longer eating and could use her free hand to smack his shoulder. "That's a low blow."

He grabbed her hand and gave her another shit-eating grin: “Yes, low is a very familiar word for you, isn’t it?”

Well, that was unacceptable.

Discreetly gripping a pillow behind her, Rey pretended to be upset, her lower lip trembling slightly. She waited until his smile dropped before giving the coup de grace: a well-placed hit on his head with the soft cushion, followed by a victorious “Hah!”

She immediately regretted her action when the cushion fell; his shocked expression turned playful in a matter of seconds, and the dangerous glint in his eyes was unmistakable. She just had the time to yelp before her legs were grabbed and her back fell on the couch.

The Prime Minister had snatched her bare feet in the air, and with a vicious smile, he began to tickle her.

It was horrifying; Rey was snorting loudly, his fingers were torturing her, and because of his strength, he had her pinned on the couch. She couldn’t move, couldn't stop giggling, and tears were rolling on her cheeks. Her laugh was contagious, and he began to chuckle too and kept tickling her.

Finally, she had to scream “Okayyy, okayyyy you’re not a giant, I’m smaaaall” before he agreed to release her feet. He kept her legs on his lap while she was trying to regain her breath: his long black hair was ruffled, and his hand on her skin was burning hot.

Rey knew she was not in better condition: her whole face was red, and she was spread out on his couch. She saw his eyes moving from her eyes down on her body, and his grip on her leg tightened: when she looked down, she realized that her previous arousal was very much noticeable on the fabric.

“Oh my god” she whimpered, putting her face in her hands. “Sorry, when we were cooking earlier…” she mumbled.

He didn’t say anything at first: he wasn’t moving his eyes away from Rey’s inner thighs, and his grip on her leg was almost bruising. After an eternity, he finally spoke. "Can I touch you?" His voice was deep and rusty, and Rey just nodded.

His hand moved slowly from her calf to her knee, slowly caressing the thin pyjama's fabric. No words were spoken. The only sounds in the room were the fire's cracks and Rey’s breathing. His fingers were moving in a circle around her thigh, each movement getting closer and closer to her centre.

With the sweater's long sleeves, Rey could hide her face even better: she didn’t want him to see the look of lust on her face while she was trying to stay quiet. His touch was driving her crazy, his fingers so close to where she wanted. She was so wet now, the spot on her pyjama had doubled in size.

“It’s driving me insane” she heard. His hand was teasing her, touching everywhere but her covered pussy. “You’re drenched, Rey.” His voice was broken, and when Rey sneaked a peek between her fingers, she saw that his whole expression looked ruined.

Finally, his hand moved to her inner thighs and cupped her cunt. Immediately Rey moaned in relief, and her hands left her face to grab his arm. His eyes drank up her face, and the hand on her whole cunt was hot and firm.

Rey moved her hips slightly to increase the friction but right away, he removed his hand. "Stay still, or I'll stop." And Rey wanted to throw the pillow into his face again, but his commanding tone prevented her. She just nodded, and his hand went back between her leg.

He was very focused, his burning gaze never leaving Rey. Even with the pyjama between them, his fingers were fantastic: slow strokes were followed by light taps on her clit. Every change of motion was pulling a moan of Rey’s mouth. “I knew you could be good”, his dark voice filled her ears.

Her head was on the couch now, eyes closed, and the need to move her hips was consuming. Ben’s fingers were pinching her folds through the fabric, then shortly after pushed against her entrance. “Ben-I,I need…”

The need to have his fingers on her bare cunt was devastating.

He knew that and teased: "What do you need, Rey?" His fingernails were rubbing the fabric now, and it was not enough, not enough at all. "Need you-you to touch” she whimpered.

His brushes became progressively lighter, and Rey wanted to scream. She opened her eyes and moved on her elbows to give him a dark glance. He seemed to enjoy himself immensely, looking at her with a mocking smile. “I would help you, but my hand is getting tired…”

His hand was just hovering above her pyjama now. "I might have a solution…" he began, and Rey's ears perked. "I could use my mouth instead…" And Rey immediately blushed and shook her head, but his hand was back against her pussy, and he was caressing her again. She moaned weakly, her arousal at the mercy of his touches.

"You don't have to do anything, I'll take care of everything…" Each of his movement was producing a squelching noise; Rey's pyjama was utterly drenched.

Rey’s foot was still on Ben’s lap, and her toes were brushing against his lower stomach. Through the fog of her arousal, she could feel them grazing a hard bulge. When she deliberately pushed against it, a growl left his mouth.

“Your taste drove me crazy all weekend. So good to have you here.” His free hand grabbed her foot and rubbed it against his erection. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low: “Be a good girl, Rey and let me eat you out.”

Without waiting for her reply, his hand reached her waistband and slowly lower down her pyjama. She tried to remember why she was objecting: as his hand was removing her bottom, his fingers brushed her bare skin in a soft caress. He touched her hipbone with a slow stroke, then gently pushed down the pyjama until it was off her legs.

In a few seconds, her legs were bare. His hand moved upwards, from her calf to her thighs, reaching her wetness. Throughout each step, he was whispering quiet praises, ' _that’s it, you’re such a good girl, Rey, let me see you, such a good girl_. And it was working like a charm: when both his hands spread her thighs and raised them against her chest, she was only thinking about his tender touch and his soft voice.

Rey was spread out on the couch, her bare cunt completely exposed to him. The wine was warming her belly, and her mind was sluggish from the Prime Minister’s care. ‘ _My good, good girl, so soft, so sweet, that’s it, just let me touch you’_.

He had moved her hands to have them gripped her thighs open. It was only when she felt the Prime Minister’s hair brushing against the back of her thighs that she realized he had his head between her legs. And his mouth was near her centre, very near: she could feel his breath against her cunt when he spoke. “Mine…”

Suddenly conscious of her position, Rey tried to squirm away, but his hands were still covering hers on her thighs, and his grip was like steel. "You’re not going anywhere, kitten.” Then without any warning, he licked her slit all the way up to her clit.

Rey moaned, and trashed, and tried to close her legs, but his lips were attached to the sweet spot, sucking it greedily. She had no choice but to stay open and feel his tongue lapping her cunt hungrily.

“Perfect little pussy…” When he was speaking, his lips were moving against her wet folds, and it was unbearable.

His tongue moved from her outer lips to her entrance and was pushing inside, trying to taste everything. "How did you hide such a sweet cunt from me?" His whole mouth was working: his lips, his teeth, his tongue were used to change the pressure, the speed, the intensity. And Rey was sobbing, no longer trying to close her legs but spreading them instead. "It's fucking mine, you hear me?" Tears were rolling on her cheeks now because somehow, he had managed to put her whole cunt into his mouth, and he was _sucking_.

Ben’s lower face was covered in slick. But it wasn't enough. Swiftly, before she was conscious enough to protest, he lifted her and took her place on the couch. The whole process took less than 5 seconds.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that she literally sitting on Ben Solo’s face.

Right away, she tried to get up and move away from this beast. But his gigantic hands were already on her hips and buttocks; he was holding her tight. Because they were so close, she could see that his biceps were the size of her arms. Maybe even bigger.

Rey looked down and saw his dark eyes flash before his mouth reached her centre once more. 

And she was lost.

He was everywhere, lapping her skin, nipping her clit and devouring her. His grip on her ass set off a rocking motion, and soon enough, she was riding his mouth.

The motion began slowly, each back and forth allowing him to stroke his tongue along the entire length of her slit. Rey had never been so turned on, a surge of slick followed every movement of his tongue, and she was so close. "My wet little cunt…”

All of a sudden, without any reason, his rhythm slowed down: his tongue was still against her centre, but every stroke was lazy, far too lazy for her taste.

"Ben", she gasped, when his tongue voluntarily avoided her clit to lick her outer lips sluggishly.

“Yes?”

“You-why did you-ah, stop?”

The smile against her cunt was big enough that she could feel it without seeing it.

"But, I thought you didn't want me to lick you". His tongue was poking her entrance teasingly now, and Rey couldn’t help but move her hips, trying to increase the contact.

It was so hard to breathe, let alone think: every time his tongue poked her entrance, it was pushing a little more inside.

Then pulling out.

Then pushing his tongue back in.

Then rolling the tip of his tongue against her hole in small circles. Taking his time to let her feel every variation of rhythm.

Despite riding his face, he was very much in control; his hands were still on her hips, moving her, and his dark eyes were never leaving her face, entirely focused on the task. Rey was panting and whining weakly when his tongue left her entrance, letting a blazing trail along her slit while doing so.

Even if his tongue was no longer against her entrance, his mouth was very active: he was covering her pussy in kisses. Some of them were quick pecks, others deep, open, and wet.

Rey was fucking whining every time his mouth met her sensitive skin, and the sound echoed in the living room. With both her hands braced against the back of the sofa, she was trying to increase the friction in any way she could.

Warm lips were brushing on her clit with the softest touch and then leaving right away.

Insisting kisses were touching her inner lips, with almost the brush of a tongue, but no, his mouth was already gone.

The man was clearly trying to drive her mad, and it was working so well.

“Are you going to refuse me again?” Ben growled between two kisses, and how was she supposed to reply when his question was followed by a series of wet pecks on her clit?

Rey's body was alive in a way she had never experienced before, every one of her nerves reacting to his touch; her heartbeat was beating erratically, and she could feel every thump in her cunt. Lost in the haze, she barely felt his hands getting under the sweater until his fingers were grazing her breast.

He kept kissing her while grazing her soft boos with his huge hands; at first, he was focused on discovering her petite breast, filling it with his palms. Weighting it tenderly.

But as his kisses on her cunt became desperate once again, so did his hands. His whole hands were kneading her boobs, his thumbs circling her nipples. First with wide circles around the peak, then smaller and smaller circles until he was teasing the hard buds. 

The motion initiated by his hands was getting faster and faster; his tongue was stretched and rubbed her pussy in the most delicious way. “Need you to come on my tongue”. Rey was moving on her own now, spreading her thighs and rubbing herself against his mouth.

All her shyness was gone, she needed to come, and his mouth was so good, so hot. She rode his face, using him, pushing her cunt against his greedy mouth. His fingertips were rolling her nipples, pinching them randomly.

Suddenly, one of his hand moved away and grabbed her ass. It gave him enough leverage to press his mouth on her clit, and suck forcefully. It was almost too much, but it was so good, and Rey was coming, her mouth opened in a silent cry. Throughout her climax, his mouth never left her cunt, increasing the sensation. Rey was drenching him, she could hear the swallowing noises coming from him, but she just couldn’t stop coming.

Rey felt like she was dead and now floating to heaven: her cunt was pulsing, her entrance clenching around nothing, and Ben’s soft mouth was still kissing her sensitive skin gently.

When she finally came back to her senses, his tongue was lapping her tenderly.

“Ben… Ben…” she whimpered. His hand were caressing her ass, her back, her breast, touching every inch of skin they could. “Ben, it’s-it’s sensitive” Rey sobbed.

His reply was muffled: "I-I can't stop, I need you", and his teeth nibbled her outer lip gently. "I've wanted you for so long…" His licks were slow as if he was savouring her taste. "Lemme-lemme just…”

There was a sound of skin slapping in the room, and Rey realized that he was touching himself while eating her cunt. His muffled growls were vibrating against her wet folds, and Rey's core was ignited once more.

Knowing that he couldn’t resist touching himself while eating her out was so stimulating. “Ben, I’ll be a good girl, so good for you.”

The sound of his hand hastened. “Mine, my good girl. Say it.” His tongue was punishing her cunt again, trying to draw out more wetness, and Rey was close again.

“Yes, I’m your good girl. Only yours.” She pushed her clit in his mouth, and immediately he began to suck it. "I'll give you my cunt to eat every day.” The rhythm of his hand and his mouth were erratic now. His free hand moved away from her hip and smacked her ass loudly. "No m-more underwear. Always – _always_ \- naked and wet in my flat.” And the image was so naughty, so dirty that Rey came once again, whimpering and sobbing.

She heard him groan deeply, and his grip on her ass tightened, just before his warm cum hit her back. His mouth was still attached to her pussy, and she could feel every one of his growl; he kept spurting what felt like litres of sperm on her back.

Finally, after one final lick, his mouth moved away from her centre, and his breath was loud. Rey was exhausted, her pussy was puffed and red, and she was covered in sweat, cum and tears. When she looked down at the Prime Minister, she saw him grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s what I call an amazing dessert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this steamy scene :D


	12. Chapter 12

When Rey woke up, she was utterly lost at first.

The sheets didn’t feel like her own, and the room was completely dark. Because of some events in her past, Rey always – _always_ – slept with a small light.

Never in complete darkness.

She began to shiver, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a low voice near her ear: “Everything is fine, kitten, we’re in my room.” The statement was followed by a soft kiss on her head.

And Rey finally remembered the evening.

The Prime Minister.

Dinner.

His mouth on her cunt.

Flooded by embarrassment, she tried to squirm away, but her whole body was squeezed against another one. A very – _very_ – hot one.

She was on her side, and her head was resting against Ben Solo’s chest. Her arm was around his waist, and her leg was keeping him close. His own arm was hugging her tightly as if he was afraid she would slip away during the night.

Apart from when she was a child living in foster homes, she had never slept with someone else.

This was a bizarre feeling.

Almost every part of her body was touching the Prime Minister in some ways. She could feel that their proximity affected him: his massive erection was poking her thigh.

It was very likely that he had cleaned Rey and changed her pyjama before bed: she didn’t feel sweaty anymore, and her clothes were dry.

His breathing against her head was even, and his heartbeat was slow. Maybe he wasn’t awake after all. Perhaps he had been sleep-talking.

But then his hand moved to the back of her neck and began to rub the skin there. “So good to have you in my bed…”

So yep, he was definitively awake.

It was probably well past midnight. Despite her two previous orgasms, the slow rub on her neck was too enticing, and Rey shook her hips a little bit. Rubbing her centre against his enormous thigh.

The friction was delicious; his stiff muscles were perfect for rubbing her clit. Rey whimpered, moving slowly against the Prime Minister.

"Want to keep you in bed forever…” Because of the sleep, his voice was even lower than usual. He whispered every word in the shell of her ear, his tone dark and sweet.

Rey was rubbing herself in earnest now, the darkness helping her get loose of her inhibitions. One of his hand sneaked to her breast, and his thumb flicked her nipple. “Fucking mine. Since the first time I saw you.”

It was almost ridiculous how quickly Rey arrived on the verge of her orgasm: his words and the smell of him were infiltrating her skin. His hand on her nipple was teasing: light taps alternating with pinches.

“Next time we’re in this bed, I’ll pump you full of my cum.” And he followed his word by a tightening of his leg which brought Rey to her climax. Her crushed cunt was pulsing, and her whimpers were resonating in the darkness.

Throughout her orgasm, his hand was still kneading her boob gently.

When she finally came down from her high, he was kissing her head softly and whispering sweet nothings in her ear: _“My sweet girl, I’ll be so good to you, so good, give you everything…”_ The sound was hypnotic. When the last spam reached her damp pussy, Rey was asleep once again.

*****************************************

It was one of the best night that Rey had in a long time; when she woke up the next morning, she felt well-rested.

She stretched like a cat in the vast bed.

Expensive sheets were a real threat. No wonder why rich people never have bags under their eyes.

Slowly, Rey rose from sleep and realized that she was alone. The room was gorgeous in the morning light; some sunlight was pouring through despite the heavy curtains. Moving in the bed to check her environment, she suddenly smelled Ben Solo's scent from the cushion next to her.

What a great way to start the day, she thought while grabbing the pillow and sniffing it. The faint sandalwood scent was bewitching: maybe she could stay in this bed, with this scent, forever. Work from here, and never leave again.

After a long moment, she finally found the strength to leave the bed and went to the living room. On the couch, her clean and folded clothes are waiting for her, near a small note.

“Dear Rey,

I had a wonderful time last night. I am sorry I had to leave early this morning, and I did not want to wake you up.

I hope you will be back here. Soon.

Love,

Ben”

And there was so much is this small note that Rey wanted to cry.

***********************************

Unfortunately, they didn’t see each other for the whole week.

On Tuesday evening, the United Nations General Assembly held an extraordinary session, and the Prime Minister had to leave right away for Japan.

Rey was bummed, of course, but wasn’t self-centred enough to sulk about it. With the Prime Minister's role came a long list of responsibilities.

But now that she had a taste of him, she wanted more. She wanted his tongue back on her pussy, she wanted his food, and she wanted to hear his deep voice in her ears. The next few days were the longest of her life.

Poe and Finn didn’t help at all; seeing them canoodling on the couch was a harsh reminder of her own solitude. She wanted that: just being on the sofa, in Ben's arms, her body relishing his warmth and his tenderness. Doing nothing but enjoying each other's company.

Friday rolled around, and Rey secretly hoped that she would see the Prime Minister during the weekend. His messages didn't help with her restlessness: he was sending her "I miss you” at least twice a day", then "I want to see you". The previous day, he even tried to fly her to Japan: the reasoning in his text message was very well constructed (damn politician), and Rey had been very close to accepting.

But because she didn’t want to advantage of their relationship, she finally refused.

And well, she was frustrated.

Since her refusal the day before, he hadn’t sent her any new messages. It was slightly unusual since he usually sent her text messages daily.

It was now Friday afternoon, and Rey missed her sweet morning message. He was probably too busy to reply, but Rey had sent him a message when she had woken up: "Good morning, my Ben."

When she remembered this message, she couldn’t help but blush. It was the first time since their evening that she used the possessive pronoun.

When 3:00 PM arrived, Rey was sitting behind her desk, writing down the morning meeting recap. Absorbed in her task, she didn’t hear her door open. Neither did she heard someone getting closer and closer to her desk until it was too late.

"Getting cosy in my office?"

Instantaneously raising her head, Rey jerked when she saw who it was.

Hux was in her office. Worse than that, he was in her office, standing right next to her, behind the desk. A cold sweat began to run down Rey’s spine when she saw how close he was.

"That's okay, sweetie, we can share." Despite the evident worry on Rey's face, Hux seemed entirely at ease, with only a few meters between them: he moved even closer and leaned over, with one hand resting on the back of her chair.

Rey’s body was glued to the backrest to add more distance, and her mind was racing. She needed to leave; the guy was making her uncomfortable.

"I'm glad I'm finally back, we hadn't got the chance to… get to know each other,” he cooed, clearly enjoying himself. Not bothered by the fact that Rey hadn’t said anything since his entrance. “You could start by showing me what you’ve been working on.”

He moved even closer, enough for Rey to feel his body heat and to smell his disgusting scent: a mix of aftershave and sweat and beer.

It reminded her of…Plutt. Of that night.

When Rey’s hand reached for the mouse, it was shaking. “Y-yes.” Rey whimpered.

It was still her boss. She was supposed to follow her orders.

Opening her current report, Rey was hoping that it would distract Hux enough. She just wanted him to stop standing so close: when he moved his head towards the screen, his arm brushed her own, and she could feel his breath in the air between them.

“I-I’ll let you read in peace” Rey stated and moved to stand, but Hux was quicker. “Nonsense, Rey, run it through me.” And his hand reached for her opposite shoulder and _pushed_ it down. “Be a good little intern”.

He had to know Rey was terrified now. Her whole body was trembling, and his hand was still gripping her shoulder. He could feel her shivering, but he clearly didn’t give a damn.

Unshed tears were crowding her eyes.

_I’m not going to cry. I’m not._

“Y-yes, so,we-we thought about the new, new flower supplier” she stuttered. Right away, Hux interrupted her: “New flower supplier? I don’t remember agreeing to a supplier change.” With each word, his beer breath was reaching her nostrils, making her want to puke. His tone was harsh: “Who gave you the right to contact a new supplier?”

His grip on her shoulder was punishing, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I, I, I asked Helen and-“

“No, No, No, Reyyyyy", he shushed her. "You always" His free hand reached for her own hand resting on the mouse. "Need to ask me first." His thumb began to stroke her skin, and every cell of her body was turning into ice. Her mind blanked, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she was back in Cambridge, a teenager alone in a room with a dangerous adult.

“Okay, love?” And it was repulsive, this specific word in his mouth and both her cheeks were wet now; there was no way to stop them.

“Ohh that’s okay, don’t cry, you can make it up to me.” Hux's hand started to move up her arm, and Rey opened her mouth, she was going to scream, she could not go through that _again_.

The man used Rey's frozen state to move her arm closer; he took her hand and put it on his crotch. Immediately, Rey whimpered and tried to remove it, but his grip was firm. "Don't be shy; you can touch".

Hux's face transformed, and it was Plutt in the office, his voice in her ears.

He was there to finish what he started all those years ago.

Hux was hard, and he was pressing her hand against his erection. Clearly no bothered by Rey's tears or the shaking of her head. Or the hushed sound leaving her lips which sounded a lot like ' _no, no,no,no,please,no'_

Lowering his head, he moved his mouth to her ear to says something-

But he didn’t even have time to produce any sound: suddenly, Hux was violently pushed away from her, his body crashing against the wall.

“SON OF A BITCH”

Through her tears, Rey caught a glimpse of someone hitting Hux’s face with a sucker punch, but her mind was already fairway. Plutt was there, and she needed to be somewhere else, somewhere peaceful.

A meadow with thousands of flowers.

Maybe if the afternoon’s sun wasn’t too intense, she could lie down and let the sun rays warm up her cold skin.

Or she could go under the three, with the cool shadow and the sweet breeze.

The warm scent of the daisies and the water lilies were reaching her nose, but she could not choose. A voice was calling her name, and it was difficult to concentrate with all the noise around.

Rey’s body was slowly rocking back and forth. Meticulously, she began to think about all the type of flowers she would find among the bed of grass.

White orchids, with an elegant perfume full of contrast: voluptuous yet ethereal.

Wild peonies, young and light, with a lovely sheen.

She was hoping to see some tulips; she loved tulips very much.

*********************************************

Much later, Rey’s mind began to clear up gradually.

Slowly, the fog, and the flowers, and the sleepiness faded away. When she opened her eyes, she was in a huge bed.

And next to her was Finn.

Her best friend was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. His warm hands were keeping Rey’s hand against his beating heart.

“Hey, Peanut…”

Rey blinked, then looked to Finn expectantly. “Finn? What are you doing in my room?”

"We are not in your room, Peanut." His hands were very sweaty, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

Rey looked around, and sure enough, it was Ben Solo's room.

And Finn was here?

Rey’s began to shiver, suddenly cold. Why was Finn in this room? “Finn?” she asked.

Her friend didn’t move, knowing it was best not to have any physical contact with Rey other than their hands.

“Do-do you remember what happened?” Finn asked gently.

Trying to focus, Rey’s words were hesitant at first: “It’s Friday, and I was my office, and tonight is the Bachelor.” Then as the pictures in her brain were coming back, her words were weaker. “And I was alone, and, and-Plutt, he’s, he’s in the office.” Silent tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Finn's hands were warm, and he was comforting Rey: "Rey, it's okay, I'm here, you're safe, you’re safe”. She was sobbing, her whimpers filling the room.

The door cracked open, but the sound was covered by Rey’s litany: “He’s in the office, Plutt’s here.” The words were rushing from her mouth as if she was trying to warn Finn of the danger nearby. "Have to-have to run, he's drunk."

As the tears were flowing on her cheeks, Finn's voice was firm now: "No, Rey. Plutt’s not here. You’re safe.” And when she looked up, Finn was looking at something inside the room and shaking his head as if he was saying 'no' to someone.

“B-but, I was him-“ and Finn cut her with a firm tone: “No, Plutt is in Cambridge, far from here. You’re safe.”

Rey was crying, the salt from her tears mixing with her saliva. “It’s okay, Peanut, you’re safe, it’s okay.” And Finn repeated this sentence over and over.

An eternity later, Rey was out of tears, and Finn's words were stuck inside her head.

She finally spoke again: "I-I think it was Hux, in the office." Her voice was clearer now, and the worst of the panic attack was behind her. Finn raised his hand and stroked her hair: "Yes, it was Hux, he's under arrest now.” His pats were sweet, and Rey was emotionally exhausted.

She dozed off a little bit and woke up a few hours later. Finn was asleep next to her, and when she stirred, he immediately opened his eyes. His expression was flustered at first, but when he saw Rey, he calmed down. "Hey, Peanut."

"Hi, Finn… So why-how are you here?"

His hands returned on her head, gentle and full of care. "I got a call from an unknown number. When I picked up, someone told me to come as fast as possible and that you needed me." Rey looked up and saw that Finn's face was thoughtful. "When I arrived, I was guided by an assistant into this flat, and it was the Prime Minister’s place, and the guy was furious.”

Not knowing if she wanted to hear the rest or not, Rey squirmed but didn’t say anything.

"There was blood on his hands, a police inspector was there. As soon as I got here, the Prime Minister brought me to his bedroom, and you were on the bed, looking…bad. And he, he asked me to help."

A few seconds later, Finn added: “No, that’s not right, he _begged_ me to help.” 

Rey was silent, processing the information.

And she was grateful because Finn didn't ask her any questions about what was happening with the Prime Minister, with Hux.

He was just… there.

For her.

“That was yesterday. How do you feel, Rey?”

“I feel okay. Hungry and dirty, but okay.”

Finn nodded: “Okay, let’s get out of her bed, eat and take a shower.”

They fumbled out of bed. Rey was feeling weak from the long hours spent in bed. She was also trying very hard to not think about what had happened yesterday: she put her memories in a neat binder, on a very deep shelf, inside the back of her mind. Then locked it. Very, very well sealed.

As soon as she opened the door, a noise cracked on the other side of the flat, and a massive frame rushed in her direction.

Right away, Rey moved behind Finn, hiding. Shaking like a leaf.

Steps stopped in front of Finn, and the deep voice of the Prime Minister filled the room: "Rey?" His tone was solemn, sad, worried. "I'm-I was. I'm not…" And his sentence died. Rey’s hands had gripped the back of Finn’s tee shirt instinctively.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you know that, right?” And his voice was desperate, so Rey had a peek above Finn’s shoulders. Ben Solo was standing right in front of them, huge, large, and defeated.

“I-I know, I’m sorry, I panicked” she replied with a small voice.

His tormented eyes were focused on her face, searching, looking. “Okay. Okay.” His tone was a little less distressed. “I’m going to cook lunch; you’re welcome to use the bathroom. I’ve put clothes for you and Finn inside.”

It was evident that the Prime Minister was holding back. His huge hands were almost twitching, his tone was rushed, and his eyes were never leaving her face. He was probably having a tough time restraining his instincts.

“O-okay, thank you, I’ll go shower.”

And Rey scurried to the bathroom, with two sets of eyes on her back.

************************************************

The shower was delightful, and Rey’s spirit lifted up a bit.

However, the meal that followed was a little bit awkward: Finn and Ben were treating Rey as if she was made of glass, not letting her do anything. They were piling up the food on her plates, and she could feel their heavy stares following her everywhere.

Ben was even worse than Finn; whenever she was standing up to go pick something, he just followed her. When she went to the kitchen to wash her hands, he followed her. Everywhere she went, he was there.

Finally, when the dessert came, Rey had enough: “Could you both stop?”

The two men exchanged a quick glance, then looked at her.

Their expression clearly saying no.

During the afternoon, Rey stayed on the couch with Finn nearby. The two friends were carefully avoiding to talk about yesterday. Something in Finn just knew he had to wait for Rey to be ready to talk.

They chatted a bit, then watched TV.

Ben was hovering, coming back and forth between his flat’s office and the living room. Every 15 minutes, like a clockwork, he was back in the living room. Checking if Rey was here and safe.

Around 5:00 PM, he joined them on the couch and talked with them about trivial things. He was sitting at the right side of Rey, with a huge gap between them.

As the conversation changed towards Top Chef UK’s best candidate, Rey began to relax more and more. She rearranged the cushion on her back and moved a little bit closer to Ben. Then, a few minutes later, Finn was imitating a commercial on the telly, and Ben laughed, and Rey moved closer on the couch.

Then, she moved a bit more.

One hour into the discussion and only a few centimetres were still separating them. Ben's hand was resting on the couch, between them. Rey felt like she was handled like a wild animal: the Prime Minister wasn’t trying to reach out. Just glancing from time to time to his hand and the empty space near him.

He was just waiting.

For her.

Finally, when nobody was speaking, and Finn was enraptured by the telly, Rey’s hand moved and closed on Ben’s hand.

Cold fingers meeting warm and welcoming skin.

The soft press of his fingertips when his hand engulfed hers.

His thumbs caressing her skin.

Body heat migrating from his body to her cold bones through the touch.

And Rey wanted to cry because it was so soft. So sweet.

**************************************

Finn left half an hour later, pretexting something to do with Poe. Rey was grateful for his discretion; he had thrown a curious look to their joined hand but had not said anything.

He gave Rey a bear hug, whispering ‘call me’ in her ear, then left.

At long last alone with Ben, Rey turned around and saw that he was looking at her intently.

Waiting.

“I, I think I overstayed your welcome.” And Ben instantly frowned. “I should leave.”

They were both near the door, and Ben's colossal frame was towering over her. Despite the imbalance between their sizes, Rey didn’t feel threatened by him. She knew deep down he would never hurt her.

For the first time since the beginning of the day, Ben extended his hand in a motion to touch Rey but stopped just before. His eyes were watching her, checking her reaction.

When she closed her eyes and nodded, his fingers reached her forearm and caressed her skin. Moving slowly and raising goosebumps in their trail. Gently, he tugged on her wrist, and the motion caused her to fell slightly forward, directly into his waiting arms.

As soon as she was against him, his gigantic hands kept her close as if he was afraid of letting her go. She heard him sniffing her hair while his hands moved on her back steadily.

Rey only realized she was crying when the wet fabric of his tee-shirt clung to her cheeks. She gripped his tee-shirt in her fist and just let go of her pent up emotion. Throughout her silent tears, Ben was kissing the crown of her hair tenderly.

Nuzzling her hair.

Whispering quiet words.

“-was so afraid, you didn’t reply, didn’t know what-“ and it was barely audible because his words were buried against her hair.

His arms were very tight around her, but she felt safe. So safe.

Rey distinctly felt something wet against her scalp. "'m sorry, didn't protect you" Ben's voice was strangled. He was crying, she could feel his tears against her hair, and he was quietly apologizing again and again. As if the whole thing was his fault.

Her own tears stopped: she just couldn’t believe this man was real.

And Rey wanted to punch Hux in his rat's face because he was the root cause of all this mess.

And she needed Ben to understand that he was perfect, that he had saved her.

As his breathing slowed down, Rey’s hands moved behind him, stroking his broad back. She couldn’t reach the top, but it didn't matter. Calmly, her hands caressed him over his shirt, from his back to his sides. Then they moved to his stomach, stiff abdominal muscles contracting under her touch. It almost felt like she was stroking hot soft steel, and the difference was striking compared to her own voluptuous petite body.

His breath was gradually quickening, and just when she began to feel something hard poking her, Ben moved his hips away.

Her hands moved from his stomach to his brawny chest; Rey leaned back a little to raise her head. Her eyes met his dark stare when she did so, and they were slightly red and humid.

And because she needed him to understand, her hands clutched his shirt collar quickly, and she _pulled_ him down. She just had the time to see his eyes widen comically: his whole upper body bent down, and her mouth met his in a wet smack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is voting for Ben killing Hux ? I'm in !


End file.
